


Free Pour

by sarahkwut



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018) RPF
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Fluff, Intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:26:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 127,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24763066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahkwut/pseuds/sarahkwut
Summary: Free Pour: A pour directly into a glass without using a jigger or shot glass to measure the quantityHe's a bartender with a perfect free pour and a Ph.D. candidate. She thinks she wants to be a lawyer and wishes she had taken more chances in life. Both of them are trying to move on. But when their paths collide, Nick's hand is no longer steady with the bottle and she's far more willing to take a risk.
Relationships: Nicholas Scratch/Sabrina Spellman
Comments: 547
Kudos: 198





	1. Sparks Fly

**Author's Note:**

> Shall we do this again?

_Drop everything now_   
_Meet me in the pouring rain_   
_Kiss me on the sidewalk_   
_Take away the pain_   
_'Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile_

Sabrina Spellman had no regard for anyone around her. She blew through the doors of Dorian’s Gray Room with the force of the small tempest she was and went straight for the bar. She unceremoniously plopped herself on the first available barstool and slammed her hand on the oak surface before her.

“I need a drink.”

“Define drink.”

Her senses returned to her then. Her rage was still present, but her curiosity momentarily took over. She didn’t recognize the man who stood before her drying a glass tumbler and she knew all the bartenders at Dorian’s.

“Who are you?” she asked.

He raised a dark eyebrow at her demanding tone.

“The person standing between you and this drink you seem to desperately need.”

She huffed.

“I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

“Clearly.” He picked up another glass to dry.

“Can I have my drink?” she demanded. “Please,” she added as an afterthought to lessen the blow.

“Two questions first,” the bartender countered. “First, define ‘drink.’ You are in a bar after all. Do you want a beer? Wine? Whiskey? A cocktail? A glass of water? Your options for a ‘drink’ are numerous.”

Sabrina glared at him, but he had a point. She hadn’t actually ordered.

“A gin and tonic.”

It was a directive more than a request.

“Easy enough,” the bartender agreed. “Second question.” She thought he might be trying not to smirk at her. That only annoyed her more. “Are you old enough for this gin and tonic?”

Sabrina scoffed again.

“Are you serious?”

“I am,” he replied, unfazed. He artfully tucked his towel into his back pocket. “I need to see your ID. The law requires it. Besides, I thought most women appreciated being ID’d.”

“Do I seem like most women to you?” Sabrina questioned.

The bartender considered her. She was petite and fair skinned with lips the color red that screamed ‘danger.’ Her hair was a platinum blonde he had never seen before and fire burned in her deep brown eyes. It was all a substantial contrast to the neat plaid skirt and short sleeved turtleneck she wore, her hair held back by a velvet black headband. She was equal parts schoolgirl and devil.

“You do not,” he admitted. “But I still need to see your ID.”

She glared at him as she dug through her purse for her wallet without looking. He waited, unconcerned. She removed her license and held it out to him. He took it and held it up to better see it in the dimly lit bar.

Sabrina Spellman. Twenty-three years old. Greendale, Connecticut.

A local.

“That checks out then.” He slid the license across the bar to her. “One gin and tonic coming up.” He considered her for a moment. “I think I’ll make it heavy on the gin.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst idea you’ve ever had,” she quipped. He chuckled and turned away from her. She took a moment to take a big breath and exhale, her temper still brewing hot. She had a feeling there would be more than one drink in her future that night, if for no other reason than to cool down her blood.

“Ah, Sabrina.”

Dorian Gray himself appeared before her.

“Dorian,” she greeted. She waved a hand to indicate the room behind her. “Bit slow for a Friday night, isn’t it?”

“It’s not even seven,” he pointed out. “You know the real fun doesn’t start here until the hour becomes inappropriate.” He winked a smarmy wink at her. Sabrina rolled her eyes. He was right. Dorian’s was the place to be in Greendale – but only once the hour was late. Around ten or so, the place would begin to bustle with students and locals looking to drink away their weeks. By the witching hour, it would be lively. “You appear to be in a mood.”

“I’d be in less of a mood if your bartender would hurry up with my drink.”

The bartender appeared with her drink as though she had cued him.

“Patience isn’t your strong suit, is it?” he asked as he placed a cocktail napkin before her and settled her glass on it.

“I see you’ve met Sabrina,” Dorian drawled, his eyes gleaming in amusement. “To answer your question, no, patience is not something my second favorite Spellman possesses.”

“Oh, so you like Ambrose more than me now?” Sabrina wondered. “Figures. I seem to be everyone’s second choice today.” She took a long swig of her drink. Dorian and the bartender watched with something close to amusement.

“He happens to possess anatomy that you do not,” Dorian said pointedly. Sabrina rolled her eyes. The bartender chuckled. Another patron appeared down the bar. He nodded politely and stepped away. Dorian watched him go for a moment, then turned back Sabrina. “He’s quite beautiful. Definitely adds to the scenery around here.”

“Who is he anyway?” Sabrina wondered. “I haven’t seen him behind the bar before.”

“That, my second favorite Spellman, is Nicholas Scratch. An old friend of mine and one hell of a bartender.” He smirked. “Interested?”

Sabrina just glared. Dorian laughed and walked away. Sabrina took another sip of her drink. Without the distraction of Dorian and this Nicholas person, she could appreciate that the drink was well made. He had used the good gin and been true to his word to go lighter on the tonic. She looked in his direction. He was serving a couple of blonde coeds who were flirting shamelessly. He certainly didn’t seem to mind.

She recognized then that he really was handsome. He wasn’t especially tall, but still tall enough with dark hair, dark eyes, and tanned skin. He had a lopsided smile that he was using on the girls – and it was working well. She would guess, based solely on how his button down shirt fit, that he had an expanse of muscle beneath it.

Aware that she was staring, she pulled her eyes away and reached into her bag for her notebook. She opened it and started studying her notes scratched out months earlier. She was allowed fifteen glorious minutes of quiet.

“You come to bars to study often?”

She looked up from her notes to find Nicholas standing in front of her.

“Nothing better to do,” she shrugged.

“What are you studying?”

“Torts.”

“A law student,” Nicholas deciphered. “I’m somehow not surprised.”

“Making a snap judgement?” Sabrina challenged with a raised eyebrow.

“My snap judgments tend to be right,” he quipped. “But you tore in here all demanding and bossy, so it just makes sense that you would choose to stand before a jury and argue your case.”

Sabrina’s eyes narrowed.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve calling me bossy and demanding.”

“But am I wrong?” Nicholas countered, standing his ground.

Sabrina faltered. She had been called those two adjectives her entire life, along with things like ‘headstrong’ and ‘reckless.’ While some women would be put off and even offended by the labels, she had been raised by two aunts who encouraged her to embrace them and reminded her often those weren’t the only components of her personality. She was also fiercely loyal and when she loved, she loved deeply.

“Maybe I was a little wound up when I came in,” she amended. He chuckled.

“A little? If I’d struck a match, I think you and everything around you would have gone up in flames.”

“It’s been a rough day,” she informed him. “Hence the drink.”

Really, it had been a good day. It had just been a rough couple of hours, but in her opinion, those couple of hours negated the rest of the day.

“Want to talk about it?” Nicholas asked.

“With a stranger?” Sabrina countered.

“I’m a bartender,” he reminded her. “People tell me their secrets all the time.”

Sabrina considered him. He was a stranger, yet there was something about him that made her feel comfortable. She thought perhaps he would at least validate that she wasn’t wrong in her feelings of rage.

“My ex asked me for permission to ask my best friend out on a date,” she shared. “That’s against basically every rule of girl code there is.”

Nicholas didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he reached for the bottle of gin behind him.

“What do you say?” he asked as he topped off her drink which was certainly more gin than tonic now.

“I mean, I told him it was fine…”

“So you lied.”

“I didn’t lie. It is fine…”

“That’s not what you said,” Nicholas pointed out. “‘Fine’ wouldn’t have driven you in here demanding a drink and raging at me for having the nerve to ask for your ID.”

“Sorry about that,” Sabrina muttered. “I’m a regular here. I’m not used to being carded.”

“No harm done,” Nicholas replied. He leaned on the counter. “So, you’re not fine with your ex dating your best friend? Or are you?”

“I’m fine with it,” she said after a moment. “I really am. I broke up with Harvey six months ago. I’ve gone on dates since then. But, like, the ex and the best friend? That’s wrong, right?”

“Depends on how you look at it,” Nicholas mused. “If he really, truly likes her, is it wrong?”

“No,” Sabrina admitted. “And I think he does really, truly likes her.” She took a long swig of her drink. “Perhaps I was a little irrational.”

“But apparently not until after you told him it was okay.”

“Well I wasn’t going to blow up at him then and there,” Sabrina stated. “He did the right thing, asking permission. If he wouldn’t have asked me and taken her on a date? I would have raged.”

“I’d hate to see you raging mad,” Nicholas said seriously. “The tantrum you threw earlier was bad enough.”

Sabrina gave him a look.

“I did not throw a tantrum.”

“You did,” he nodded. Then he smirked. “But you’re cute, so I’ll let it slide.”

Sabrina wanted to retort. She wanted to inform him that it was inappropriate to call a girl he barely knew ‘cute.’ But she found she kind of liked it. She was certain he was an utter flirt, but she was single now – it was fine for someone to flirt with her. She decided to turn the tables on him.

“You now know far too much about me,” she declared. “Tell me about yourself. You’re an old friend of Dorian’s it seems. How did you meet him? And how did you end up here, in Greendale, Nicholas?”

“First, you can call me Nick,” he said. “As for Dorian, I met him years ago.” He was purposefully vague. “I’m here because I’m a Ph.D. candidate in anthropology and Greendale University has one of the best programs in the country.”

That caught Sabrina off guard. He didn’t look like a student, let alone a doctoral candidate.

“You’re a student?”

“A Ph.D. candidate,” he said again. “I’ve been a student for a long time.”

“Huh,” Sabrina said, begrudgingly impressed. She mentally chided herself for stereotyping him as a carefree bartender with no real ambition without actually knowing him. He was apparently well on his way to being “Dr. Scratch.” She had some common ground with him – sort of. “My cousin, Ambrose, is also a Ph.D. candidate in anthropology at Greendale. He’s studying medical anthropology.”

“Then I’ll probably cross paths with him,” Nick mused. “I’m studying cultural archeology, however.”

Sabrina didn’t really know what that meant – she lived with Ambrose and the extent she knew about his subject area of expertise was the name of his program – but she was sufficiently impressed.

“Well, if you’re half as good at anthropology as you are at making gin and tonics, you’ll be just fine.”

“Then I should be pretty good,” Nick said. Sabrina raised an eyebrow.

“A bit cocky, aren’t you?”

“Just sure of myself,” he replied with a half grin that was more of a smirk. The blondes from earlier reappeared at the opposite end of the bar and waved to get his attention. He pushed off the bar with a last look at Sabrina. “Duty calls.”

“I’m sure it does,” Sabrina quipped. He just winked at her and wandered away. She turned her attention back to her notes, aware that she didn’t actually need to study as she was on summer break. She was simply trying to prepare for the year ahead. When she left a half hour later, she included a big tip. He had earned it, after all.

* * *

Nick was as quiet as a cat as he gingerly slipped from the strange bed he had ended up in. The blonde – he thought her name was Molly? – hummed in her sleep. He was careful as he moved around the unfamiliar space, first finding his clothes and then disposing of the used condom. He didn’t take a true breath until he was outside.

He paused on the sidewalk and looked around. He was still learning Greendale, but he thought he knew where he was. Not far from the bar, which was where his car would be. Still, he fumbled in his pocket for his phone and pulled up a map app. He allowed it to access his location, put in Dorian’s, and found he was right in his thinking. It would take him ten minutes to walk back.

He was aware of what he was doing. The girl – Margaret? – would wake up in a few hours and reach for him, maybe roll over in bed to face him, and he wouldn’t be there. That was his personal rule. He never stayed the night. He was also aware that it wasn’t a good look. He had earned his reputation in every town he had ever called home. But as far as his vices went, he reasoned women were the safest one, so long as he was safe in the act.

Confident he was walking in the right direction, he checked his messages. There weren’t many – his circle was incredibly small – but there were a couple.

_Did you make an appointment?_

He sighed. Of course his grandmother was checking up on him. He knew she was asleep, but he still replied. It would save him an early morning phone call.

_Yeah. Tomorrow morning._

He reasoned it was now today, but she knew he kept late hours.

The only other text was a reminder about said appointment.

He checked his email next. His inbox was a disaster zone. He never deleted his junk mail, didn’t always read emails he probably should, certainly was slower to reply. He scrolled through them, glancing over subject lines, opening one from his advisor with an updated class schedule, another from a faculty member personally welcoming him to Greendale University. One subject line in particular stood out.

_Nicholas, Open This Email & Reply To It, Please_

Nick sighed again and clicked the email.

_Greetings Nicholas,_

_I hope your move to Greendale went well. I’m told your program at Greendale University is one of the best. Congratulations again on getting into a highly selective program._

_I’m sure you know why I’m writing. I understand that you are in the midst of transition, but we really do need to proceed with the signing. Your grandmother says you’re doing well and I hope that continues to be the truth. Please respond to this email at your earliest convenience and we will agree upon a time and date for the signing to take place._

_Yours,_

_Michael Pruitt, Attorney at Law_

Nick closed the email.

He would deal with that tomorrow – or the day after, whenever he remembered.

Dorian’s came into view. His car – a sleek black number – wasn’t the only vehicle in the lot. He wasn’t surprised. He was certain the few cars left there belonged to those who walked home or else called an Uber after too much to drink.

The smell of the leather interior welcomed him. He exhaled relief at being in the safety of his car. He buckled his seatbelt before he started the vehicle, took a deep breath, and put it in drive.

He didn’t live far from the bar and the roads were empty, but he drove slow all the same, cautious of the signs, the turns. It was all still new, still unfamiliar, and it looked even more different in the dark. He wasn’t used to small town life, either. He pulled into his assigned parking spot and shut off the motor with a relieved sigh. He fumbled a bit as he searched for his keys on his way up the stairs to his walkup apartment, the lighting not as bright as it could be, but from what he’d gathered, Greendale wasn’t exactly crawling with less than savory characters.

He didn’t bother with turning on a light when he entered. Most of his apartment was still in boxes. He would get to it eventually. He went into the bedroom and fell onto his bed fully dressed. He reached over to the nightstand and plugged in his phone. He should have been exhausted and he was. But he couldn’t fall asleep. He never could.

Instead, he lay awake, studying the ceiling, focusing on the way the dim moonlight casted shadows of the tree branches outside his window. He reminded himself that school started in a few days. In a few days, he would be back into a routine he was familiar with. Back to books and researching and writing endless papers.

He just had to push through the next few days.


	2. A Place In This World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have NEVER had so many comments on a chapter, let alone a first chapter, as I did with the first update. Thank you a million times over. If you follow me on Tumblr or Instagram, you know I've been carrying around a kidney stone for a few weeks now. Thanks for cheering me up while I wait for this thing to ditch me. When you WANT the breakup to happen... 
> 
> Also, you might have noticed - all the chapters will be Taylor Swift songs. Sometimes it'll be the song title that lends itself to the chapter's events. Other times it'll be the lyrics or a mix of both. I think Taylor is a GENIUS writer, so I'm here for it. In this update, for instance, there are "Place In This World" lyrics that really describe Sabrina's mindset right now.
> 
> Now, shall we have some Ambrose time?

_I'm alone, on my own_  
_And that's all I know,_  
_I'll be strong, I'll be wrong_  
_Oh, but life goes on_  
_Oh, I'm just a girl_  
_Trying to find a place in this world_

Sabrina read the phrase on her flashcard. She answered in her head, flipped it over, and smiled in satisfaction when she was right. She moved on to the next flashcard. She knew that too.

“I have a question.”

“I’ll have an answer,” Sabrina stated, not bothering to look up at her cousin.

“You always do,” Ambrose countered. “Right or wrong.” He sat down at the table and helped himself to the stack of toast in the middle of it. “Why are you studying? On a Saturday morning? Our last Saturday of summer break? When you don’t have classes?”

“I’m about to be a third year law student,” she reminded him. “I need to be on top of my game. I’m refreshing my memory before classes start.”

“You interned for a top firm in Hartford all summer long,” he reminded her. “Not to mention the fact that you volunteered for the DA’s office and the free legal clinic to boot. I’d say you’ve earned a break.”

“My classmates had internships too,” she reminded him. “We only have a year of school left. Then it’ll be time to study for and take the BAR, get a job, be a real lawyer…”

“Why are you putting so much pressure on yourself?” Ambrose wondered. “I mean, I get it. You’ve always said you wanted to be a lawyer. But why are you suddenly opening notebooks in bars to study? _During summer vacation?_ ”

“Gossiping with Dorian again?” she asked.

“It seems you put his new bartender through a bit of a hazing ritual,” Ambrose confirmed. “Poor guy was just doing his job, asking for your ID…”

“I apologized for my behavior,” Sabrina informed him. “I was in a mood.”

“Clearly.” Ambrose added several slices of bacon to his plate then went to work shoveling eggs onto it. “Talk to me, cousin. We know why you were in a mood last night. I’ll give you that one. But back to the matter at hand. Why are you studying when you don’t have to?”

Sabrina sighed. Ambrose had always been more like a big brother than a cousin. He knew her too well and it was as frustrating as it was comforting.

“Being a lawyer is all I’ve got going for me,” she confessed. “I went from engaged to single and my fiancé is now going on a date with my best friend. My other best friend – Theo, just to keep it all in order – is living his best life with Robin, traveling and exploring the world. I’m – a law student. Which is not too shabby, all things considered, but that’s it. That’s who I am. So, if that’s who I am, then I’m going to try to be the best at it.”

She sat back in her chair as though she were putting an exclamation point on her declaration.

Ambrose considered her as he chewed a piece of bacon.

“You’re the most ridiculous human I know, know that?”

Sabrina frowned.

“You’re calling me ridiculous when you came to breakfast dressed like that?” she nodded at his orange and red linen ensemble.

“I bought this in India and I like it,” he informed her. “Yes, I’m calling you ridiculous. You’re the one that called off your engagement, remember?”

“I know,” Sabrina sighed. “And it was the right thing. But when your ex – who you devastated – is moving on and suddenly happy…”

“You throw yourself into law school,” Ambrose understood. Sabrina couldn’t argue with him. “You’ve gone on dates since the big breakup, Sabrina. Although, I suppose not with Harvey’s best friend. Which, in a cruel twist of irony, would be Roz.”

“I hate you,” Sabrina stated.

“Same,” Ambrose quipped. “But you’ve gone on dates. Why shouldn’t Kinkle be allowed to do the same? Even if it’s with Roz? He at least asked permission. I’d be less inclined to cut him some slack if he hadn’t.”

“He did ask for permission and I really am fine with it,” Sabrina said. “It just made me realize I that I don’t have much besides school going for me at the moment.”

“If you’re looking for a distraction, may I suggest looking no further than the new bartender?” Ambrose proposed. “He’s hot and according to Dorian, he likes, shall we say, physical affection.”

“He is attractive,” Sabrina admitted. “But I think I need to focus on school.”

“Famous last words.” Ambrose looked around as though he had suddenly realized they were the only ones home. “Where are the aunts?”

“Hilda went to the farmer’s market,” Sabrina shared. “You know how she loves to be one of the first ones there. “

“She purchases her coffee and her pastry and she wanders every stall, sampling and noting what they have…” Ambrose drawled. Sabrina chuckled.

“And then she makes a second lap buying whatever she identified as the best produce, the best bread, the best jams…” They had both experienced the farmer’s market with Hilda many times over. “Zelda, however, is off to her favorite pastime.”

“Presiding over Saturday morning detention,” Ambrose finished. He chuckled in a conspiratorial manner as he spread a thick layer of marmalade on his toast. “She’s such a witch.”

Their aunt Zelda was the directrix of Greendale Academy, Greendale’s prestigious private school. Their family’s ties to the school went deep and traced back decades. Both Sabrina and Ambrose had matriculated through the school. To date, one of Zelda’s greatest frustrations in life remained the fact that Sabrina had struck up friendships with the local public school kids while often ruffling the feathers of her own classmates. Sabrina wore the annoyance like a badge of honor.

“The Blackwood twins are in detention this morning,” Sabrina shared. “Zelda is truly living her best life right now.”

“And here we are, eating Hilda’s cooking and missing the showdown that’s bound to occur between Zelda and Father Blackwood over her daring to punish his kids.”

“Technically Mambo punished Judith for talking in class one too many times and the librarian caught Judas skipping biology or something, but I’m sure Zelda won’t miss the chance to go toe-to-toe with Blackwood.”

The animosity between Zelda and Faustus Blackwood was as legendary as their torrid affair a few years ago.

“Some religious figure he makes,” Ambrose quipped. Sabrina laughed. “What are your plans for the day, cousin? Aside from studying?”

“I think I’m going to go to the farmer’s market myself,” she said. “May as well, right? Then, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go to a movie or something.” She narrowed her eyes. “What are _you_ going to do today?”

“Prudence, I think.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. Ambrose was a man whore if there ever was one and he wore the label proudly.

“You’re the worst,” she informed him as she stood to move her dishes to the sink.

“And you’re uptight,” Ambrose retorted. “I’m telling you, Sabrina, the occasional one night stand would do you wonders.”

“I don’t do one nights Stands,” she reminded him. “Unlike you, I have standards.”

“And yet you were going to marry Harvey Kinkle…”

Sabrina popped him hard on the shoulder as she passed him on her way out of the kitchen. She left him laughing as she gathered her bag from where she had left it and set off down the road towards town. She had opted to walk, even if it was a bit of a hike, enjoying the cool but comfortable late summer morning.

She used the time to contemplate the events of the last six months.

Ending her engagement was the right call. She had absolutely no doubts about that. But it was difficult, to go from planning a wedding to – not. She had been with Harvey since she was fifteen years old. She thought they would be that old-fashioned success story that was so rare these days. High school sweethearts who stayed together through college, got married, and lived happily ever after.

But as she planned her wedding – one that was supposed to happen in six weeks’ time – it became more and more apparent that she and Harvey weren’t compatible. Not anymore. She was driven, ambitious. It hadn’t bothered her once upon a time, that he had opted not to go to college. School had never been his thing. But she had thought he would pursue his art, that he would chase his talents. Instead, he had gone to work for his dad in the mines, the very thing he said he would never do, and was completely content about it.

She had opted to stay put in Greendale, despite being admitted to several other schools around the country. The night she announced her decision to attend Greendale University would forever go down in history as one of the biggest arguments the Spellman dinner table had ever witnessed – and it had witnessed many. Zelda was beside herself that her niece would choose a boy over her future. Hilda, too, was upset, sure Sabrina was settling. That had caught Sabrina off guard. While Zelda had never warmed up to Harvey, Hilda had adored him. She still did, but Sabrina knew her liking of him had shifted some from then on.

Only now, with an undergrad degree and two years of law school under her belt, did she see her aunts had a valid point. She didn’t regret her decision to stay in Greendale, exactly, but she did find herself often wondering what else was out there? What had she missed by not striking out on her own? Roz had gone to school in New York, Theo in Boston. They had both studied abroad, Theo twice. Roz had seen enough of the world and was content to come back to Greendale to settle down. Theo had loved traveling so much that he was rarely home. Sabrina had never done any of that.

It hurt to admit that at the end of it all, resentment had been the demise of her relationship. She felt held back and despite her best efforts, it was a feeling she couldn’t shake. She had broken Harvey’s heart and she felt horrible about that, but it was the right thing for her. For both of them. She deserved more and so did he. She thought he was starting to realize that.

She greeted people she recognized as she wandered through the market. She bought a bag of homemade fudge she loved, stopped to smell samples from a soap maker. She was browsing a selection of jewelry when she heard her name.

“Sabrina?”

She turned to find Nicholas Scratch standing behind her, a wrapped sandwich in one hand, an iced coffee in the other.

“Nicholas,” she greeted. “Hi.”

“You in a better mood this morning?” he asked with a glint in his eye.

“Ha ha,” Sabrina said dryly. “But yes, thank you.” She considered him. “You look tired.”

“Is that your way of saying I look like hell?” he countered.

“No,” Sabrina shook her head. “Just observing the fact that you look tired.”

“I’m a bartender,” he reminded her. “I worked until the early morning hours.” There was no need to tell her about what he’d done when his shift was over. “I would like to still be asleep right now, but the noise from this thing filtered up into my apartment and woke me up.”

“You live around here?” Sabrina asked curiously.

“Just down there,” he tilted his head in the direction of his apartment. Sabrina knew several of the shops on main street had apartments above them. She wondered which one was his. “Who the hell has a bluegrass band at a farmer’s market at eight o’clock in the morning on a Saturday?”

“Greendale,” Sabrina said with a smile. They started to walk, neither of them really noticing that they were moving. “Where did you go to undergrad, anyway?” she asked in an effort to make small talk with the stranger she had demanded a drink from the night before.

“Washington University in St. Louis,” Nick answered. “I did my master’s at Oxford.”

“Impressive,” Sabrina stated. She knew because of Ambrose that Washington was the top-ranked undergrad program in anthropology. “When you meet my cousin, please tell him you went to Washington. He didn’t get in and it’s still one of my top three best days ever.”

“Finding joy in your cousin’s pain?” Nick wondered with a sense of amusement.

“You’ll understand when you meet Ambrose.”

Nick laughed. He made to unwrap his breakfast sandwich, but realized his hands were full.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Sabrina raised an eyebrow. “Could you hold my coffee so I can unwrap my breakfast?”

“Easy enough.” She took the coffee from him and watched as he unwrapped a big, greasy sandwich. “Would it be a snap judgment for me to say you probably eat like that all the time?”

“As in big, greasy breakfast sandwiches?” Nick asked.

“Sure,” Sabrina agreed. She had meant crap food choices in general.

“Cooking is not a talent I possess,” Nick admitted. “Besides, most of my place is still in boxes. I couldn’t cook if I wanted to.” He hadn’t even bothered to go grocery shopping yet.

“When did you move here?” Sabrina asked curiously.

“A week ago tomorrow,” Nick answered.

“And you haven’t unpacked?”

Nick heard the disbelief in Sabrina’s tone.

“You’re one of those Type A people, aren’t you?” he asked. “I bet you unpack your suitcase the moment you get back from a trip.”

“Well, I don’t travel all that much, but yeah. Clothes need to be washed, suitcases put away....” Nick laughed again.

“I knew it.”

“I’m organized,” Sabrina informed him. “Don’t be so judgy.”

“Ah, I don’t think it's me being judgy,” Nick volleyed back. “My greasy breakfast, my unpacked boxes… You’ve got a lot of opinions on how I live my life, Spellman.”

An odd sensation ran through Sabrina at the sound of ‘Spellman’ falling from Nick’s lips. The only other person who had ever called her ‘Spellman’ was the gym teacher at the Academy and it was always because she was either refusing to participate in yet another game of kickball or trying to further whatever cause she was championing that week amongst her classmates during class. She dismissed the warm buzz that filled her at Nick’s use of her surname.

“School starts on Tuesday, Scratch,” she retorted. “I’m just suggesting you should unpack before then.” She held his coffee out to him. He took it, amusement in his eyes. “That Ph.D. program isn’t going to take itself.”

“Like I said at Dorian’s, I’ve been a student for a long time,” he reminded her. “And I’m about to be one for another several years.”

They had resumed walking. Sabrina looked at him from the corner of her eye

“You anthropology people are weird,” she declared. “All those years of school? Three years of law school is more than enough for me.” She knew from Ambrose that a Ph.D. program in the subject would be at least five years, usually more like eight. Ambrose was in his third year.

“Will you take the bar exam right out of school?” Nick wondered. “It’s offered twice a year, right?”

“July and February,” Sabrina confirmed. “It depends on how much time I get to study before the July exam.”

“What kind of law do you want to practice?” Nick asked. He found he liked talking to her. She was sharp, clever. There was no denying that she was beautiful. She was a welcomed change from the women he usually spent time with. Not that he generally spent much time talking with them.

“I don’t know,” Sabrina shrugged. “Civil law, maybe. Family law. I guess we’ll see.” She could play this question and answer game too. “Tell me, Scratch, what – culture – do you intend to study with this anthropology doctoral?”

Nick suppressed his urge to laugh. She clearly didn’t have much of an idea as to what he studied. He was used to that. Cultural anthropology raised eyebrows. But she had a certain innocence about her with her questioning and he was impressed that she had remembered the fact despite their quick exchange at the bar. He struck up lots of conversations with women in bars, but none of them remembered what he studied – not that he gave them a chance to.

“Cultural anthropologists specialize in the study of culture and peoples’ beliefs, their practices, the cognitive and social organization of human groups,” he explained. “It’s about how people share a common cultural system, how they organize and shape the world around them and are in turn shaped by those ideas, behaviors, and environments. It’s fascinating.”

Sabrina stared.

She couldn’t help it.

There was no denying that he was handsome. He was dangerously attractive. But under all of those good looks was a level of intelligence she had only ever seen in Ambrose. For some reason, it caught her off guard.

“What?” he questioned, noting her expression.

“I just wasn’t expecting such an impassioned answer,” she admitted.

“It’s something I enjoy,” Nick shrugged. He watched Sabrina greet someone she knew in passing, then continued when she turned her attention back to him. “I’m still ironing out what, exactly, I want to focus on, but I’ve got a few years of coursework and teaching ahead of me before I go out into the field. I’ve got time to figure it out.”

“The field?” Sabrina questioned. She wished she paid more attention to Ambrose when he talked about school now.

“Living and researching within a culture. There’s some interesting research happening in western Africa. But last week, I read about this guy’s research in coastal Ecuador and that was really interesting. I wouldn’t mind joining his team. And I’ve always been intrigued by the work going on in New Zealand, too. Who knows where I’ll end up?”

“Have you traveled much?” Sabrina asked curiously. She sensed he had.

“Substantially,” Nick confirmed. “I did a couple of study abroad semesters in undergrad, took full advantage of being in Europe while I did my master’s. It’s easy to travel around once you’re there, so I’d buy a train ticket or a cheap flight and go – anywhere I want to go.”

“So you’ve been everywhere,” Sabrina stated.

“I haven’t been to Antarctica,” Nick said seriously. He had, however, been to the other six continents in some capacity.

“How sad for you,” Sabrina grumbled. Nick picked up on something in her tone.

“I know I don’t know you well, but I detect some bitterness.”

Sabrina gave him a look. She wondered if he was always so straightforward. She knew she, too, tended to get right to the point and that it usually disarmed people. It didn’t seem to faze him. Despite not knowing him well, she found herself willing to be honest.

“I haven’t traveled much,” she admitted it. “I mentioned it earlier, but other than a few trips to the beach with my aunts and a trip to England to visit family when I was too young to remember, I haven’t really left Greendale.”

Nick felt like there was a story there, but he didn’t push.

“I’m a big believer in tossing what you need in a backpack and getting on a plane at every chance you get,” he said. “You should try it sometime.”

“I think I’d need more than a backpack,” she said wryly. Nick chuckled. He decided to pick her brain on the Greendale social scene.

“So tell me, what is there to do around here?” He took a big bite of his sandwich as he listened.

“Well,” Sabrina started, “there’s this market. Which, by the way, happens every single Saturday from seven to noon, so buy ear plugs or get used to it.” Nick grinned and took another bite. “You obviously know about Dorian’s. There’s the movie theater. Dr. Cerberus is the place to go for a good milkshake or a burger. There are some small shops and such along main street, but otherwise, you have to make do with the grocery store and drugstore near campus or drive to Riverdale for a big box store. You’ve got to make the hour drive to Hartford if you want good shopping.”

“What I’m hearing is that there’s not much to do,” Nick surmised.

“There’s plenty to do if you look for it,” Sabrina told him.

“I’ll take your word for it.” He checked the time. “Well, Spellman, as much as I’ve enjoyed being reprimanded for my lack of organizational skills and my bad diet, this is where I leave you.” They stopped walking and turned to one another. “I’ve got an appointment to get to and I should probably shower before I go.”

“Are your towels still boxed up?” Sabrina quipped.

“All but one,” Nick countered, making her laugh. He considered her and couldn’t help himself. “I’ll be behind the bar tonight if you decide to demand another drink.”

“We’ll see if my ex asks for permission to date another friend,” she said. Nick laughed again.

“See you around, Sabrina.”

“Bye, Nick.”

They went their separate ways. Sabrina glanced over her shoulder and could make out Nick walking in the direction they had just come from. She turned back around but couldn’t help but smile to herself. There was something about Nicholas Scratch she liked.

But she also trusted her instincts.

And her instincts said there was a lot more to him than the attractive Ph.D. student that slung drinks at night.

* * *

Nick absentmindedly worked the knife through the lemon on the cutting board in front of him. He liked preparing garnishes. It was a mindless task, one he only needed to pay just enough attention to to avoid cutting himself. It was still early, the bar still quiet. He found some solace in the peace, in the simple task.

He hated therapy, but he needed it. He had to sit himself down in an office every other week – every week, right now, as he transitioned to a new town and a new therapist – and answer questions from a stranger, allow his psyche to be picked apart. He also hated that it did wonders for him. He wanted it to be a disaster, but he couldn’t deny that it had helped him.

Ideally, he would have had his evening free. Therapy took it out of him, and he preferred it when he could sit on his couch and lose himself in sports or a bad movie and all the junk food he could eat. But the move to Greendale had put him off his therapy schedule and he needed the first appointment he could get – a Saturday morning at that. New town, new school, new therapist.

And yet, the same shit he’d been dealing with for far too long.

“You must be Nicholas Scratch.”

Nick looked up from his lemons. An eccentrically dressed guy his age, maybe a few years older, had slid onto a stool a few spots down. Nick had been so in his head that he hadn’t seen him come in, let alone sit down.

“I’m a little concerned that my reputation already precedes me,” Nick replied. “But yes, I’m Nicholas Scratch. Nick Scratch.”

The man extended his hand.

“Ambrose Spellman.”

“Ah,” Nick reached to shake his hand, understanding dawning on him. “Dorian’s favorite Spellman.”

“That would be me,” Ambrose confirmed with a self-satisfied smirk. “I hear you met my cousin last night.”

“I’d ask if she was always that wound up, but I saw her this morning and, well, she asked a lot of questions and was slightly judgmental but she was a lot less demanding.”

Ambrose laughed.

“That’s Sabrina,” he said. “She’s as headstrong as she is kind and loyal. You ever tell her I called her kind or loyal, I’ll deny it, but when she gets fired up, she’s a force to be reckoned with.” Ambrose shrugged a shoulder. “She’s a force regardless, actually.”

Nick thought there might be a hint of admiration in Ambrose’s tone.

“Can I pour you a drink?”

“Please,” Ambrose nodded. “Dorian says you’re a genius mixologist. Surprise me.”

Nick considered Ambrose for a moment, then nodded once. He started pulling out bottles and mixers. He was good at reading people, at guessing what sort of drink they needed in the moment. He got a certain carefree vibe from Ambrose but sensed that the guy had an edge all about him all the same.

“You say you saw Sabrina this morning?” Ambrose questioned as he watched Nick work.

“I ran into her at the farmer’s market,” Nick answered. “I live on Main Street and a damned bluegrass band woke me up.”

Ambrose chuckled.

“Welcome to Greendale,” he said. “I recommend earplugs if you’d like to sleep in on a Saturday morning.”

“Sabrina said the same thing.” He slid a drink across the bar to Ambrose. “Try that.”

Ambrose lifted the drink. He could smell the bourbon, thought there might be something spicy in there as well. He took a sip. His eyes grew.

“Damn,” he swore. He took another sip. It was one of the best drinks he had ever tasted. “What’s in this thing?”

“That is a four-year-old Elijah Craig, a bit of Hildago sherry, some chili liqueur, and some Benedictine.”

“It’s mind blowing,” Ambrose declared. “Well done, Scratch.”

“Glad you like it,” Nick stated, feeling some pride in himself. “Sabrina mentioned you’re working on your Ph.D. in anthropology?”

Ambrose was off, Nick listening intently as he learned Ambrose was in his third year of the program, specializing in medical anthropology and beginning to plan for his own field work in the next year or so. Even when he had a customer, Nick found himself drifting back to Ambrose once he served them to continue their discussion, pour him another drink. It wasn’t often that he met someone who shared his passion for anthropology. Even in his master’s program, he was always a little more into the subject, studied a little harder. He was always the top student and it alienated him more than helped him. He didn’t mind, however. He preferred to operate alone.

He had been talking to Ambrose for well over an hour, another drink concocted and the bar picking up in business when a tall, lanky guy approached the bar. He had on his best plaid shirt tucked into a pair of jeans. It looked like he had attempted to style his hair but done a poor job of it. He had a girl with him, cute but conservative, her hair wild. Nick saw Ambrose’s features shift before he turned his attention to his customers.

“What can I get you?” Nick asked politely.

“Can I get a, uh, beer?” the guy replied. Nick thought he might not be the most confident guy around. He looked to the girl beside him. “Roz? What would you like?”

“I’ll have a glass of red wine,” she said. “A merlot if you have it.”

“We have it,” Nick confirmed. He looked back to the guy. “Define ‘beer’ for me.”

The guy frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we’ve got a pretty wide selection of beer. Do you want a sour? An ale? A stout? Something on tap? We’ve got options. Just nothing you would find in a can at a grocery store.” He sensed the guy was, in fact, a cheap canned beer kind of kind.

“Oh, um, doesn’t matter.”

“An IPA then,” Nick decided.

“A beginner’s beer,” Ambrose piped up. Nick looked at him over his shoulder while he turned to find the wine he wanted. He was right – Nick had chosen an IPA because he thought the guy had never really had a good beer before – but he had enough sense not to say it.

“Ambrose,” the guy greeted. “Nice to see you.”

“Can’t say the same,” Ambrose muttered. “Roz,” he added with a polite tilt of his head that was clearly an afterthought yet still far more polite.

“Hi, Ambrose,” the girl mumbled. She looked uncomfortable.

Nick put their drinks in front of them and started a tab. They took their drinks and wandered away to a quiet table in the corner. He turned his attention back to Ambrose.

“Got some bad blood with that guy?” he asked.

“That’s Sabrina’s ex-fiancé,” Ambrose said bitterly. Nick raised an eyebrow.

“That guy?” he clarified. “Plaid shirt? Bad hair?”

“One in the same,” Ambrose confirmed.

“So is that girl her best friend?” Nick wondered, recalling Sabrina’s story from the night before. “Wait – ex-fiancé? She was engaged?”

“You know a lot about my cousin for being the new guy in town,” Ambrose observed.

“She explained her demanding attitude about the drink by admitting her ex had asked for permission to date her best friend,” Nick told him. “She just said ‘ex’ so I assumed boyfriend.” He looked across the room and took in the guy who looked to be quite comfortable with his date. He didn’t know the guy at all. But he didn’t see her with him. “She was going to marry that guy?”

“So you see what I see,” Ambrose observed.

“I don’t mean to make assumptions about someone I've interacted with for two minutes, but he just seems – dull.” He hadn’t exactly spent a lot of time with Sabrina either, but he was sure she was anything but dull.

“Dull is a word for it,” Ambrose agreed. “Don’t get me wrong. He’s a decent enough guy. He didn’t mistreat her or anything like that. I do think he held her back and I’m damned glad she realized it before she married him. She saved herself a lot more heartache in the end of it.” Ambrose smirked. “You should have seen the ring. You could barely see the stone in it.”

“They were together for a while,” Nick observed.

“Since they were fifteen. Classic high school romance. He squandered his potential, Sabrina somewhat leaned into hers. She came to her senses six months ago and called it off.”

Nick was curious about what Ambrose meant by saying Sabrina “somewhat” leaned into her potential, but he didn’t question it. It wasn’t his place.

“She’s probably better off,” Nick said, again glancing across the room at the guy Sabrina had planned to marry.

“She is. I don’t have any beef with Roz – her best friend, his date – but it’s still weird, seeing her with Harvey. Girl code, as Sabrina put it.”

“I guess as long as everyone is happy,” Nick shrugged. It really wasn’t his business, despite how curious he was about it all. His eyes were drawn to the door when it opened. “Shit.”

The girl he had gone home with the night before was sauntering toward him with two of her friends. He couldn’t tell if she was pissed or hoping for a repeat performance. Ambrose looked between the two and raised an eyebrow.

“Uh oh,” he said in a singsong voice, reading the situation exactly as it were. Nick glared at him.

“Fucking Dorian,” Nick muttered under his breath. “Never around when you need him.” He desperately wanted to slip to the back room for several long minutes, until the girl – Mary? – went away. Dorian, of course, had disappeared over an hour ago and hadn’t returned and it wasn’t time for the other bartenders to be on the clock yet. The girls lined up at the bar. He had no choice but to serve them. “Ladies.”

“You disappeared on me,” the girl greeted.

“I had places to be,” Nick said diplomatically. The girl continued to study him.

“Do you even remember my name?”

“Do you remember mine?” Nick countered. He saw by the look on her face that she didn’t. “There we go then.” He did remember their drinks from the night before, however. It was a skill that had gotten him out of similar trouble many times before. “Glass of wine? First one’s on the house.”

Nick quickly poured three glasses of wine and the girls drifted away. Nick blew out a big breath. Ambrose chuckled.

“That was masterful,” he told him appreciatively.

“I got lucky,” Nick said, admitting his guilt.

“No judgment here,” Ambrose raised his glass to him. “Straitlaced isn’t my style.” He tossed back the last of his drink. “Speaking of, I’m off to find my not so straitlaced adventure of the evening. Close out my tab?”

Nick rang him out, knocking off the first drink of the evening, deeming it an experiment. He glanced at the clock as he moved a few used glasses off the counter.

Four more hours to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ambrose is quite carefree in this fic. And definitely a bit of a kindred spirit with Nick. It's also fun to write Nick as not having any point of reference for these people he's meeting. He looks at them, makes a judgment - he and Sabrina do like their 'snap judgments' - and goes with it. I think he nailed Harvey. 
> 
> But how bad do you want to walk through a farmer's market with Nick? And about that therapy mention... 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this one! Thanks for reading!


	3. The Moment I Knew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently we're all Ambrose fans and Taylor Swift fans and I am here for it. Shall we see Ambrose at his peak? He really knows how to ruffle Zelda's feathers...

_And it was like slow motion_  
_Standing there in my party dress_  
_In red lipstick_  
_With no one to impress_  
_And they're all laughing_  
_As I'm looking around the room_  
_But there was one thing missing_  
_And that was the moment I knew_

Nick groaned and fumbled for his phone as it shrieked out it’s obnoxious sound and broke through his first decent sleep in a while. He found it, glanced at the screen, and tapped on the answer button.

“What?”

“Is that how you greet your grandmother?”

“It is when you wake me up.”

“Wake you up? It’s ten o’clock!”

Nick opted not to remind her that it was eleven o’clock. She was an hour behind in Chicago. It wouldn’t help his cause.

“I worked until nearly three,” he told her. “I didn’t get into bed until closer to four.” And she knew better than anyone how hard it was for him to fall asleep.

“Fine fine,” she sighed. “How was your appointment?”

“Like any other appointment.”

“You’re in a mood today.”

“Grandma, you woke me up.” Nick pushed himself up to his elbow, the other hand holding his phone to his ear. “What kind of mood am I supposed to be in?”

“A better one than you’re in right now.”

Nick sighed and sat all the way up. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Amalia Scratch was not going to cut him much slack. The best he could do was suck and it up and find out why she calling.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “But I really was sound asleep when you called.”

“Well, you’re awake now,” she stated. “Let’s try again. How was your appointment?”

“It was fine,” Nick answered in a diplomatic tone. “New therapist, same questions.”

“It takes time to develop relationships,” his grandmother said in that soothing tone she used when she thought he was teetering. “Give it some time, Nicholas.” She sighed and Nick knew what was coming. “Are you sure this move was a good idea? You were really getting your feet under you…”

“I need this, Grandma,” he said in a way that left no room for her to argue. “Getting my Ph.D. was always the plan. You know that.”

“I know. It’s just, this last year or so…”

“Grandma, I’m here,” he cut her off. “I need to be here. I need to get back to work.”

“I worry about you, Nicholas.”

“I know you do.” He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t have to though. I’m doing okay. I promise.”

“Michael let me know he sent you an email.”

“He did.” Nick stood and wandered over to his window. He opened the blinds. Main Street was relatively quiet, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the market the previous day. She was getting to the real reason she called now.

“You need to reply to him.”

“I will…”

“Nicholas.”

He heard her warning. He wasn’t fazed by it.

“Grandma, I’ll handle it.”

“You’ve been handling it for months,” she reminded him. “You have yet to actually handle it, however. You’re running out of time, Nicholas.”

He couldn’t argue. She was right. He had pushed the family lawyer off for months with one excuse after another. But his timeline was rapidly drawing to a close and he needed to act. Still, he had time. Not a lot. But some.

Enough.

“I’m working on it.”

“That’s what you always say.” Her disappointment was palpable. He was used to the sentiment. “How are you settling in?” He recognized her change in subject for what it was – a peace offering to end their conversation on a better note than the clipped cadence it was currently following. “How is your apartment?”

“The apartment is as advertised.” He turned away from the window. “It’s small, but comfortable. I’ve got everything I need. It’s on the town’s main street, over an older lady’s sewing shop. It’s not too far from school or the bar.”

“It’s in a safe location then?”

Nick had to smile at his grandmother’s worry.

“Trust me, Grandma, the crime rate in this town is petty at best.” It was a far cry from the cities he was used to. “I still need to unpack, but otherwise, it’s going okay.”

“Of course you still need to unpack,” she said this with a sense of fondness. “But Nicholas, I have to ask, do you think it wise that you work at that bar?”

“Dorian is an old friend and I’m good at my job,” he told her. “Stop worrying, Grandma.”

“Easier said than done,” she quipped. “What are your plans for today?”

“I’m off today and school starts the day after tomorrow, so I guess I’ll unpack a bit, get some groceries, probably watch some TV.”

“Email Michael.”

“Sure,” he agreed, even if he had no intentions of doing so. “I should get going if I’m going to run some errands. I’ve got a feeling this is the kind of place that closes up early on a Sunday.”

“Email Michael,” his grandmother said again. “And check in with me in a few days. You’ve made your next therapy appointment?”

“I have,” Nick answered. “Nice and early every Tuesday for the foreseeable future. I’ll call you in a few days.”

After another round of goodbyes and assurances that he would check in with her, Nick ended the call. He collapsed on his couch and covered his eyes with his arm. He loved his grandmother, but she worried far too much for his liking. He reasoned she wasn’t wrong to worry, but that didn’t stop him from being annoyed all the same.

He made a mental list of all the things he needed to do, at the top of it actually being unpacking, while he laid there. Instead of moving, however, he stayed right there on the couch, content to ignore the rest of the world for as long as he possibly could.

* * *

Nick walked into the coffee shop on campus and paused just inside the doorway. He hadn’t expected it to be this busy at mid-day on a Thursday, but every table and armchair was taken. He sighed, giving up on his plan to study in the cafe for the afternoon. He decided he would get a cup of coffee to go and go back to his apartment until his shift started in a few hours, even if it meant walking back across campus in the rain to where he had parked his car and then driving back to Dorian’s later.

He placed his order and stepped aside to wait. He scanned the room, keeping his eyes peeled for a table or chair to open up while he waited, thinking he would snag it if it happened before his coffee order came up. His gaze fell on a blonde head of hair that seemed to almost glow in contrast to the gray weather on the opposite side of the window. She sat perched at a table littered with her laptop and books. She had taken the side of the table with the bench seat that ran the length of the wall, but there was a free chair.

He accepted his coffee and pastry from the barista and made his way towards her.

“Spellman?”

She looked up from the textbook she was absorbed in.

“Nick!”

He had to smile. She had that red lipstick on again and today, she was wearing a turtleneck sweater that matched. The color popped against her fair skin.

“Would I be incredibly disruptive if I took the empty seat at your table?” he asked. She smiled at his phrasing.

“Just promise to keep your weird anthro books on that half of the table and we’ll be good,” she teased.

“Done.” He put his coffee and pastry down, lowered his messenger bag to the floor, and took a seat. “Thank you. I didn’t expect this place to be so busy and I was hoping to work on a paper for a few hours before I have to be at work.”

“It’s the rain,” Sabrina said knowingly. “This place is always busier on rainy days for some reason.” She watched him pull a rather large cinnamon roll from his bag. “More junk food?”

“More judgment?” he countered. Sabrina laughed a bit.

“Have you unpacked?” she continued.

“Define ‘unpacked.’”

Sabrina’s amusement grew.

“It’s been over a week since I saw you at the market,” she reminded him. At this point, it was closer to two. “You haven’t managed to unpack since then?”

“I’ve opened boxes to find things when I need them,” he answered diplomatically. “I even emptied one. But only because I needed a book that turned out to be in the bottom of it.” He watched her take a dainty sip of her tea. He had been seduced by a girl with a cocktail more than once, but apparently a teacup worked just as well. Except he was pretty sure she wasn’t actually trying to seduce him. “I haven’t seen you at Dorian’s,” he chanced. “No need to demand a drink this first week and a half of school?”

“More like no time,” Sabrina countered. “You’d think things would settle down a bit by your third year of law school, but nope.”

“I get that,” Nick said. “I’ve already got days’ worth of work ahead of me and we’re a week into the semester.”

“Regretting that Ph.D. right about now?” she wondered.

“Not even close.” Nick leaned over and fumbled with his bag. He extracted his laptop and placed it in front of him. Sabrina continued to watch him as he added a thick textbook and a notebook to the pile. She knew she should let him be, allow him to work while she did the same, but he was a welcomed distraction from her reading case after case that she cared about less and less with each passing one.

“How are you liking Greendale so far?” she asked.

“It’s different. I’m used to cities, noise. And by noise, I mean sirens and traffic, not bluegrass bands at an ungodly hour.” Sabrina chuckled. “With the exception of Saturday mornings, it’s obnoxiously quiet here.”

“Where did you move from?” Sabrina wondered.

“Chicago,” Nick told her. “I grew up there.” He was quick to ask her a question to avoid her prying any further. “What about you? Are you a Greendale original?”

“Born and raised,” she confirmed. “My family has been here for generations.”

“I met your cousin Ambrose,” he told her. “At the bar, last weekend. I see him around school a bit, too. He’s actually the TA in one of my classes. He’s a decent guy.”

“He’s an idiot,” Sabrina stated.

“That’s not the word I would use for him,” Nick mused. “Eccentric, maybe, but not an idiot.”

“Have you met his current flavor of the week? Her name is Prudence. You meet her, you’ll see why he’s an idiot.”

“I have met her. I liked her – she’s smart.” Sabrina rolled her eyes. Nick laughed. “Her sisters aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed however.” Sabrina laughed this time.

“Agatha and Dorcas,” she confirmed. “Someone let Agatha become a nurse and Dorcas a teacher. I still can’t believe it.” Nick didn’t dare tell her he had slept with Dorcas a few nights earlier. He regretted it immensely, not because it was a bad experience, but because she thought it meant something it didn’t and was proving hard to shake off. “Prudence is going to be a doctor. More like Dr. Kevorkian, but she’ll find a way to convince someone to give her a license to practice medicine.”

“You can represent the patients that claim malpractice,” Nick quipped. Sabrina laughed again. He smiled himself as he opened his notebook, intent to get to work. “Thanks again for letting me take the spare chair.”

“You’re welcome,” Sabrina replied with a soft smile. She picked up her highlighter and tried to return to work, but she kept glimpsing at Nick as she tried to read her text. He was entirely engrossed in whatever he was reading, made a note here, underlined something there. He would occasionally switch over to his laptop to work for a while before going back to the heavy text. He was incredibly attractive, and she was intrigued.

She shook her head a little bit and told herself to snap out of it.

She had already heard the rumors about the “hot new bartender” at Dorian’s and they didn’t even have two full weeks of school under their built. She didn’t need to go there. She needed to focus on herself, on school, on the career ahead of her. She did not need to focus on how Nicholas Scratch frowned slightly as he worked.

* * *

The Spellman home was a mortuary.

That fact took Nick by surprise as he walked with Ambrose through the gate.

“You failed to tell me your place was full of dead bodies when you invited me to dinner,” Nick commented.

“Is that a problem?” Ambrose countered.

“No,” Nick shook his head. “Anthropologist, remember? Old and dead is my specialty.” He looked at Ambrose. “Explains a lot about you and medical anthropology though.” Ambrose laughed.

“My Aunt Hilda is the town mortician,” he explained. “I’ve lived with them since I was a teenager and my parents decided to return to England. Even when my parents lived here in Greendale, I spent more time here than I did at home. Hilda’s an excellent cook and there is always something going on here.” Ambrose smirked. “You’ll also meet my Aunt Zelda. I’m fairly certain she’s going to take a shine to you, just because you’re handsome.”

Nick rolled her eyes.

“Is she a mortician, too?”

“In a matter of speaking. She’s the directrix at the Academy. She rules that place with an iron fist. The students call her a witch behind her back. Except she knows it and she lives up to the title with pride.”

“The Academy – that’s the private school a little ways back, right?” Nick asked.

“That’s the one,” Ambrose nodded. “Sabrina and I went there our entire lives. Our family has been in charge of it in some way for generations.”

Nick found he wasn’t surprised by that. Both Ambrose and Sabrina had a way about them that alluded to a life of privilege. He knew it well – he had it himself. But despite their upbringings, from what he could tell, they were both down to earth, humble. He was curious to meet their aunts and learn more about both of them.

Ambrose pushed through the door. Nick followed him.

“Hilda!” he called. “We’re here!”

A plump woman with blue eyeshadow bustled into the hallway. She wore an apron, but Nick could tell the eccentric style gene went through the family. She exuded kindness and hospitality. He liked her instantly.

“Hello, dove!” she greeted Ambrose. She pecked his cheek, then turned her attention to Nick with a big smile. “You must be Nicholas.”

“I am,” he confirmed, accepting the hand she offered. “Thank you for having me.”

“Handsome and polite,” Hilda observed. “I’m happy to have you, Nicholas. The more the merrier around here.” She released his hand and turned to Ambrose. “Zelda should be here in a few minutes. She was held up at the Academy by some trouble with one of the Blackwood twins. Judas, I think, but it’s hard to say the way the pair of them get into trouble. No matter. Ambrose, could you nip up and get Sabrina? She’s been in her room all afternoon.”

Hilda gave Ambrose a meaningful look that Nick didn’t miss. Sometimes he was too observant for his own good. Something was going on with Sabrina. He hadn’t seen her since joining her in the coffee shop four days earlier. He found it odd that he was concerned.

“Be right back,” Ambrose nodded at them. He took the stairs two at a time to the tune of Hilda welcoming Nick once more, Nick once more thanking her for having him. He stopped outside of Sabrina’s door and knocked. “Cousin!” A few moments later, the door opened. He observed her, her hair a little messier than usual, her mascara smeared, her clothes borderline pajamas. “You look like hell.”

Sabrina glared and pointed to something in her room.

“That came today.”

Ambrose followed the direction her finger pointed in. There, hanging on the outside of her closet, was the garment bag that contained her wedding dress.

“Ah,” Ambrose realized with a sense of pity. “Bit of salt in the wound, eh?”

“I don’t regret calling off the engagement,” she said emphatically. She wanted to ensure there were no doubts about that. “It was the right thing to do. But my wedding was supposed to be in three weeks, Ambrose. And I really did love that dress. Frankly, that dress was the only thing I was actually excited about.”

It was one of the things that had clued her in to the fact that she didn’t want to marry Harvey. The fact that her wedding dress brought her more joy than the idea of him as her husband was a neon sign that told her she needed to reconsider her engagement.

“Maybe you’ll still get to wear it one day,” Ambrose proposed in an effort to cheer her up. Sabrina shook her head.

“That dress was for my wedding to Harvey.” She was sure of that. “It had its place. Maybe I’ll get married someday. Maybe I won’t. But it won’t be in that dress.”

Ambrose hugged her because that’s all he could do. He saw her textbooks and notebooks spread across her bed then. He bit his tongue to keep from voicing his thoughts on a number of things right then. Now wasn’t the time.

“Dinner is nearly ready,” he told her as he let her go. “May I suggest cleaning yourself up a bit? Nicholas is joining us tonight.”

Sabrina’s eyes widened.

“Nicholas Scratch?”

“One in the same. He’s got the night off from Dorian’s and frankly, I think he could use a home cooked meal. He eats like crap.” Sabrina smiled a bit at the fact that Ambrose, too, had noticed Nick’s penchant for crap food on the go. “Brush your hair and wipe the mascara from under your eyes, okay? We’ll be downstairs.”

Ambrose left her and returned downstairs. It took him a few minutes to rescue Nick from Hilda who had taken a liking to him. He led Nick into the parlor to wait for the call to dinner. Sabrina met them at the foot of the stairs.

“Nick, hi.”

“Sabrina,” he greeted, taking her in. She wore a pair of skinny jeans that he couldn’t help but note fit her just right and long sleeve black shirt. Simple but elegant. It still didn’t cover up that she looked a bit off.

“Join us in the parlor, cousin?” Ambrose proposed. Behind Nick, he gave her a thumbs up. She had cleaned up nicely, even managed a fresh smear of her usual lipstick.

“I could use a glass of wine,” Sabrina agreed. She followed the boys into the parlor room. Ambrose went straight to the bar cart and poured Sabrina a glass of red wine which she accepted gratefully.

“What’ll it be, Scratch?” Ambrose asked. “Scotch? Bourbon? Something else?”

“Nothing for me, thanks,” Nick shook his head. He crossed his arms over his chest. Ambrose raised an eyebrow.

“I recognize I’m not the bartender here, but it’s your night off and I can follow directions.”

“I’m good,” Nick said again. “Thanks, Ambrose.”

Sabrina watched the exchange with interest. She had always had good instincts and her gut told her there was more to Nick’s turning down a drink than him simply not wanting one right then.

“How about a glass of tea?” she proposed, coming to his aide. “We have sodas and juice, too.”

“Tea would be good,” Nick said with a tone of gratitude. “Thanks, Sabrina.”

“Where is my damned stick?”

A stern looking woman breezed into the room, her dress flying behind her. Nick was certain she was Zelda Spellman – and he thought he understood why she was called a witch. She certainly looked the part of formidable school teacher.

“Hello, Auntie,” Ambrose greeted. “Good day, I take it?”

Zelda glared at him.

“Those damned twins will be the death of me,” she declared.

“Bit hard to die when you’re a witch isn’t it?” Ambrose quipped. Sabrina snorted into her glass. Nick looked on in amusement. Zelda, however, was not amused.

“You’ll do well to hold your tongue,” she informed him. “Have you seen my smoking stick? I left it this morning and I’ve had to _hold_ my cigarettes all day.”

“How dreadful,” Ambrose said with fake sympathy.

“Here, Auntie,” Sabrina produced an antique smoking stick from a nearby table. “Is it worth telling you yet again how bad those things are for you?”

“Save your breath.” She snatched the stick away. “My lungs are as clear as air.”

“Air in the city, perhaps, what with all that smog…”

The look Zelda pierced Ambrose with was deadly. Sabrina, who was unfazed by their bickering, stepped in once more.

“Aunt Zelda, this is Nicholas Scratch,” she indicated Nick. “He’s a friend of Ambrose and I’s. He’s joining us for dinner tonight. Nick, this is my aunt, Zelda.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Spellman,” Nick offered her his hand. Zelda took it with an appraising look in her eye.

“The pleasure is all mine,” she said. “Tell me, Mr. Scratch, what do you do?”

“I’m a student at the university,” he answered.

“Oh? Law, I presume? With Sabrina?” Sabrina rolled her eyes. Ambrose grinned. Zelda was already assuming Nick was there because of Sabrina.

“I’m a Ph.D. candidate in anthropology, actually,” Nick told her. “First year. Ambrose TA’s one of my classes.”

“A Ph.D. student,” Zelda repeated. “Impressive.”

“Dinner!” Hilda’s voice echoed through the house. “Come along, loves!”

“Shall we?” Zelda proposed. “Nicholas? You can escort me.” She linked her arm with Nick’s and led him from the room. Nick glanced back at Sabrina and Nick with a questioning look before he disappeared with Zelda around the corner.

“Oh my God,” Sabrina shook her head.

“Zelda is smitten,” Ambrose observed as they followed Nick and Zelda. “Here I thought you were the Spellman most likely to get in his pants.” Sabrina elbowed him hard enough to earn a grunt. “Unnecessary.”

“Entirely necessary.”

“Sabrina?” Zelda caught her attention as she entered the dining room. “You’ll sit here.” Her hands indicated the chair next to where Nick sat at the table. She herself was already seated at her usual head of the table. “Ambrose…” She looked at her nephew, then flicked her hand at him. “Sit wherever you want.”

“Well then,” Ambrose said, choosing the seat across from Nick purely because it was the closest. Nick shot him an amused grin as he slid back from the table. He stood and pulled Sabrina’s chair out for her, acting purely on instinct and the manners he was brought up with.

“Thank you,” Sabrina said as she settled in the chair, genuinely surprised by the gesture.

“Looks like you could learn a thing or two, Ambrose,” Hilda observed as she settled a platter on the center of the table. “Such lovely manners, Nicholas.”

The evening passed pleasantly enough, as far as Nick was concerned. Ambrose had hyped up his aunt’s cooking, but he didn’t think his new friend had done the woman justice. The roast and vegetables was one of the best meals he had ever eaten, but it had nothing on the chocolate cake and homemade ice cream Hilda produced for dessert. Zelda was a character, stern and quick witted, but he liked her, or at least respected her. Ambrose seemed to relish in getting a rise out of her and managed it a number of times. There had been another moment after dinner when Zelda had offered him a drink as she held a martini in one hand and her smoking stick in the other, but again, Sabrina had swooped in when she insisted after he turned her down.

Sabrina herself had been subdued most of the evening. She had sat beside him at dinner, spoke occasionally, but she wasn’t herself. He didn’t know her well, but even he could pick up on that, saw the concerned looks Hilda shot her way, the looks from Zelda that said ‘pull yourself together.’ He noted, too, that Ambrose was quick to direct the conversation to a new topic if it threatened to become too Sabrina focused.

When he decided to take his leave, he noted Sabrina was nowhere to be found. He told the Spellmans goodbye and was all too happy to accept a plate of Hilda’s leftovers. He found he wasn’t surprised to find Sabrina sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair.

“Heading out?” she asked.

“Hiding out?” he countered.

“Something like that,” she admitted. “The ex reared his ugly head in a manner of speaking. Hilda in particular has spent a lot of the day trying to cheer me up. Hence me sitting out here alone and the three glasses of wine I’ve had since I came downstairs.”

“Harry,” Nick remembered. Sabrina’s eyes widened.

“Harvey,” she corrected. “How did you know that?”

“He came into the bar a couple of Saturdays ago,” Nick admitted. He left out how he had been on a date with the best friend. That didn’t seem like information she needed to know right then. “I met Ambrose that night. He filled me in.”

“So you know he’s an ex-fiancé.”

“Yeah,” Nick admitted. He leaned against the railing. “He ask for permission to date another friend?” Sabrina shook her head.

“My wedding dress was delivered today,” she admitted. “It was too late to cancel the order and they don’t do refunds, so I’m stuck with it. I loved that dress. I don’t regret calling off the engagement, but once in a while, I miss the idea of a wedding.”

“You’ll just have to find a reason to wear the dress,” Nick shrugged. “Or maybe have a bonfire and toss it in, if the mood strikes.” Sabrina laughed a bit. Her laugh made Nick smile.

“Any reason in particular you were so insistent on turning down a drink?” she asked.

“Just not in the mood for a drink tonight,” Nick said casually. She found she nearly believed him, but not quite. “I should get going. I’ve got a lot on my to-do list tomorrow before school and I work tomorrow evening so there’s not much time to get it done.”

He had therapy, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“I hope my family didn’t scare you off,” she said. “They can be a lot.”

“I actually liked your aunts,” Nick assured her. “Hilda’s cooking would have been worth it even if they were terrible.” Sabrina laughed again.

“Her cooking can fix anything,” she assured him. “Have a good night, Nick.”

“You too, Spellman.” He started down the stairs but stopped and looked back at her. “Sabrina?” She looked at him. “I know I just met you, and I only met that Harvey guy for a few minutes, but for what it’s worth? I think you’re too good for him.” She smiled at him.

“Thanks, Nick.”

He winked at her and disappeared into the night. Sabrina watched his headlights flood the yard. She kept watching as his sleek car disappeared down the road. She blew out a breath, thinking over what he said about her being too good for Harvey.

She didn’t agree. But she didn’t disagree, either. Harvey was a good guy. But he wasn’t the guy for her. She knew that now.

She just wished she had known it sooner.

Before she ordered a wedding gown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of everything here... A peek into Nick's life, another little encounter with Sabrina, dinner with the Spellmans. Zelda, she's got some great lines in this story. She's quite full of herself - and sure of herself. Suffices to say her hoity nature may well serve as the comic relief this go around. 
> 
> I loved the idea of Sabrina's wedding dress being delivered and how the moment she knew (see what I did there?) she didn't want to marry Harvey was when she realized she was more excited about the dress. A little romantic, in a tragic story of way.
> 
> Next update - Nick... walks in on Sabrina. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this one! XOXO


	4. Delicate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well now... Talk about some Taylor Swift lyrics that fit this one perfectly... 
> 
> Shall we allow Nick to walk in on Sabrina?

_This ain't for the best_   
_My reputation's never been worse, so_   
_You must like me for me_   
_Yeah, I want you_   
_We can't make_   
_Any promises now, can we, babe?_   
_But you can make me a drink_

Nick wandered through the building, searching for a quiet place to post up and review some research he had found that morning before his next class. He was still learning campus, still discovering the nooks and crannies of the anthropology building and figuring out where he could settle in for long periods of time without interruption. He peeked through a door’s thin glass window to find out what was in the room beyond it and his breath caught.

It was a dance studio and in the middle of it was none other than Sabrina Spellman, spinning like a dreidel, elegant and beautiful. He knew he should continue walking, but he couldn’t look away. She moved her body through the air like she was weightless, stretching and reaching, leaping and tumbling.

He moved without thought as he pushed open the door, drawn in by something outside of his control. The room must have been soundproofed because once he was inside, a piece of music with a heavy beat met his ears. He was mesmerized. She was all emotion, all movement, entirely lost to the world around her.

The music came to an end with Sabrina posed on the floor, breathing hard. Nick began to clap without thinking. Sabrina gasped and spun on her knees to face him.

“Nick!”

She looked embarrassed at being caught.

“That was incredible,” he told her.

“I thought I was alone...”

Nick realized he had intruded on something.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly. “I was looking for an empty room or corner to study in between classes. I didn’t realize there was a dance studio in this building.” He watched her gracefully get to her feet. She was barefooted, wore leggings and a cropped t-shirt. He had to remind himself it was impolite to stare. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay.” She popped up on her tiptoes without thinking about it. “The arts share this building with anthro and the dance faculty lets me use the space when it’s not scheduled for class.”

“How long have you been dancing?” he wondered. Sabrina shrugged.

“My entire life.” She didn’t remember a time – at least not until recently – in which leotards and ballet slippers hadn’t been a part of her life. “I don’t get in here much these days though.”

“That’s a shame,” Nick said genuinely. Seeing her dance for mere moments was enough to convince him she should dance all the time.

“That’s life,” Sabrina said. “You’re dancing one day, the next you’re almost a lawyer.”

Nick thought there might be a hint of bitterness in her tone.

“I’ll leave you to dance,” Nick said, still drinking her in as she dropped to her feet and popped right back up onto her toes. He didn’t think, just acted. “Come to the bar tonight. Let me fix you a drink. I feel like you could use one.”

Sabrina wavered. She knew what her answer should be. She also knew what she wanted it to be.

“I’ve got class in the morning,” she hedged. Nick shrugged a shoulder.

“So do I.”

“I have homework…”

“So do I,” Nick repeated. “But it’s a Monday night. The bar is slow. So slow Dorian and I trade off Monday shifts and close up early. It’s my Monday to work. Bring your books. Study at the bar. That’s what I’m planning to do.”

“We’ll see,” Sabrina replied diplomatically.

“That sounds like it’s the best I’m going to get,” Nick decided. “I’ll leave you to your dancing.”

He backed out of the studio, keeping his eyes on hers as though he dared her to say anything other than yes to his proposal. It wasn’t until he was out of the dance studio and posted up in the same classroom his next class took place in with his research spread out before him that he realized he had no idea why he had asked her to come to the bar in the first place.

* * *

Sabrina had no idea why she agreed to come. It was a Monday night. She had homework. Classes the next morning. A host of reasons she should be safely tucked away in her bedroom at the mortuary. And yet here she was, walking into a nearly empty Dorian’s Gray Room at nine o’clock on a Monday night.

She saw him first. He was behind the bar, but seated on a barstool, a book open, a notebook beside it. He had a pen between his teeth and a hand shoved in his hair. She wondered if his curls were as soft as they looked.

She shook her head a bit to rid herself of the thought and approached him.

“You weren’t joking when you said you planned to study in a bar.”

Nick smiled as he looked up and spotted her.

“I can’t say I expected you,” he said honestly. “But I’m certainly not disappointed.” He waved his hand around the empty room. “I could use the company.”

The only patrons were a couple on a date. Nick suspected by the way the guy was looking at the girl that they wouldn’t be there long.

“Well, you did say there would be a drink,” Sabrina mentioned. She took a seat on the stool across from him and placed her bag on the empty one beside her. “After my classes today, I could use one.”

Nick considered her.

“Trust me?” he asked.

“I suppose I’ve got no real reason not to,” Sabrina said with a hint of trepidation. Nick winked at her and slid off his stool. She tried to see what he was doing, but he kept his back to her as he worked. When he turned back to her, he held an elegant pinkish orange martini. She could smell the peach in it when he set it in front of her, noted that it fizzed. “What’s this?”

“Your drink,” Nick said simply.

“What’s in it?” Sabrina asked suspiciously.

“You know, when I made Ambrose a drink of my own concoction, he tasted it without questioning me.”

Sabrina took Nick’s words for the challenge it was. She picked up the glass and took a dainty sip. Her eyes widened.

“That’s really good.”

Nick smirked.

“I thought it might be.”

“You thought it might be?” Sabrina repeated with a raised eyebrow as she lifted the martini back to her lips.

“I made it up on the spot,” he admitted. “Ingredients that reminded me of you.”

“Continue,” Sabrina prompted. Nick slid back onto his stool.

“There’s vodka,” he started. “Clear, odorless yet potent all the same. It has a way of sneaking up on you. Then there’s prosecco – crisp, bubbly, that one in particular is a little tart. Peach, which is sweet on the inside, despite its fuzzy exterior. And finally, pomegranate. You have to work for pomegranate seeds, but it’s always worth it in the end.”

Sabrina didn’t dare try to decipher what he really meant, but she memorized the words to think over later all the same.

“It’s delicious,” she assured him.

“Enjoy it,” Nick said. He watched her graceful movements. Now that he had seen her dance, every move she made reminded him of her gliding across that dance studio. “I take it classes didn’t go well today?”

“They weren’t bad,” she amended. “They’re just – a lot.”

“I get that. School can be overwhelming.”

“And yet you chose to get a Ph.D.,” she reminded him. “Years and years of work…” Nick shrugged.

“I like it,” he said. “At the risk of exposing myself for the nerd I am, I actually love it – studying, researching, writing. It’s fascinating.”

Sabrina considered him. He meant it. She could tell by the way his eyes shined.

“I can honestly say I don’t share your same passion for school.” Nick leaned on the counter, his full attention on her.

“I’d guess you do for dance, though. Based purely on the two minutes I saw of you dancing.”

His comment caught Sabrina by surprise. He wasn’t wrong, but it was the fact that he had guessed that from just a few minutes of seeing her dance that caught her off guard.

“I love to dance,” she shared, because there was no reason not to confess the truth. “I don’t get to do it nearly enough anymore.”

“Why?”

“School,” she answered. “Law school takes up so much of my time. There hasn’t been a lot of free time in recent years.”

“You spent your free time with Harry,” Nick deciphered.

“Harvey,” Sabrina corrected with a note of irritation. “And yes. When I wasn’t in class or studying, I needed to spend time with my family and friends.”

“Well, I think you should dance often,” Nick stated. “You were made for it. Even I could tell that.”

His vote of confidence warmed something inside of her. She loved dancing. Once, she would have spent hours in a studio, spinning and leaping and never growing tired. Her aunts had hauled her to dance classes, to competitions. She had won often. She had boxes of trophies and plaques from her dance days stashed away in the mortuary’s attic. She had danced throughout undergrad as part of the school’s dance team, had a national title under her belt even. But then law school had happened, she had gotten engaged, and dancing had fallen down her list of priorities.

She missed it.

“I dance when I can,” she said diplomatically. She wanted to change the subject. She tilted her chin towards Nick’s books. “What are you studying, Scratch?”

He was off, telling her about some ancient culture long ago extinct but still influential in a remote area of eastern Asia. She didn’t exactly track, had no clue where the village he was talking about was, let alone where the small country it was located in was on a map, but the way he lit up told her everything she needed to know – he really did love school and his subject matter. It was a passion for him. When he finally paused his monologue, he noted she was smiling.

“What?” he asked.

“You really are a nerd,” she observed. “You’re easily the most passionate Ph.D. student I know. Even Ambrose doesn’t get this excited.”

He blushed faintly and averted his gaze for a moment before bringing his eyes back to her.

“I guess it makes me a little weird,” he admitted.

“Not weird, passionate,” Sabrina said again. “How did you get into anthropology, anyway?”

“I spent a lot of time at museums as a kid,” he shared. “I liked learning and my parents encouraged it.” He played with the edges of his notebook. “They were college professors. I’ve always been around academics and I’ve always been drawn to learning the why behind – everything. Sometimes to a fault.”

“Were?” Sabrina asked carefully. Nick pursed his lips. He hadn’t meant to bring up his parents. He actively tried not to discuss them. But he had and Sabrina was sharp. He couldn’t dismiss her.

“They died in a car accident a little over a year ago,” he revealed. He left it there.

“I lost my parents when I was five.” His eyes widened. He had expected pity and false apologies, not a revelation of her own loss. “Plane crash.” She reached for the last of her drink. “So, I know me saying ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ isn’t going to do you any good.”

“Cheers,” Nick agreed. He clinked a glass of water with her martini.

“Sure you don’t want something stronger?” Sabrina asked as she put down her now empty glass. “This feels like a ‘something stronger’ moment.”

Nick chuckled without humor.

“I’m at work,” he reminded her. “And I’m the only one here. I have to be responsible.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Sabrina’s suspicions that there was something more to his avoidance of alcohol heightened, but she didn’t comment on it. She had bought her books, had fully intended to study, but it was the last thing she wanted to do right now. She decided to keep her Q&A session going. “How long have you known Dorian?”

“A long time,” Nick said. “I met him in St. Louis in undergrad.”

“Dorian was in St. Louis?” she wondered. “He’s had this place for years.” She couldn’t remember a time Dorian’s Gray Room wasn’t a part of Greendale.

“Dorian has been everywhere,” Nick said. “He was managing a dive near campus when I met him. He let me drink underage, gave me a shot bartending when I was old enough, and deemed me decent. I called him up when I knew I’d be attending Greendale University and he asked if I’d help him out and so here I am.”

“How did you get so good at bartending?” Sabrina continued.

“Is this twenty questions?” Nick countered. “If so, I’m going to ask questions, too.”

“It’s not like you’re busy,” Sabrina waved around her hand to indicate the near empty bar. The couple was now full on making out over their empty drinks.

“Touché,” Nick agreed. “To answer your question, I took a year off between undergrad and my master’s. I went to bartending school, learned to mix drinks, the whole thing. I financed my European adventures through tips.” Again, Sabrina got the impression there was more to the story. Before she could press, he spoke again. “My turn to ask a question.” He leaned a little closer. “What was it about Harvey that made you want to marry him?”

Sabrina raised her eyebrows.

“I ask how you became a bartender and you ask how I ended up engaged to Harvey. Surely you’re intelligent enough to see how those two questions aren’t in the same league.”

Nick shrugged.

“I’m not afraid to ask the tough questions.”

He just didn’t like to answer them.

Sabrina picked up her empty glass.

“Make me another one of these and I might answer.”

Nick laughed and took the glass from her.

“Deal.”

He turned away from her. The couple approached to pay their tab and three barely legal undergrad frat boys wandered in a few moments later. He served them and went back to mixing Sabrina’s drink. She had opened her textbook by the time he returned to her.

“Your drink.” He held it out to her. She went to take it, but he held it just out of reach. “I didn’t forget my question. I’d still like an answer.”

She rolled her eyes but wore a smile.

“Fine,” she agreed. He settled the drink in front of her. She took a sip. He raised an eyebrow and tapped his fingers on the bar playfully to let her know he was waiting. “I’m making sure my drink is up to par,” she informed him.

“And?”

“It passes inspection.” Nick chuckled. He was pretty sure she was flirting with him. He was certainly flirting with her. She put her drink down. “Harvey… He’s a good guy. He’s not the flashiest guy, never the one comfortable at a formal event, but he’s a good guy all the same. He’s been through a lot. His mom died when we were kids, his dad has struggled with alcoholism on and off over the years, and his brother died in a mining accident when we were sixteen.”

“Damn,” Nick muttered. He had a little more sympathy for the guy.

“I guess I got comfortable with him,” Sabrina continued. “It seemed like every time I started to question our relationship, something would happen that made it a bad time to break up and so I didn’t and things would get okay again. The next thing I knew, I was engaged to him.”

“You didn’t want to hurt him,” Nick realized.

“Like I said, he’s a good guy. Things went way too far, and I ended up hurting him substantially in the end, but it was the right thing.” She took a sip of her drink. “Even if I now have a wedding dress I’ll never wear.”

“Maybe you won’t wear that particular wedding dress, but I have a feeling you’ll end up in a wedding dress all the same,” Nick said. A voice in the back of his mind wondered what on earth he was saying as he himself had no intentions of ever getting married, let alone having a girlfriend. Still, he kept talking. “Call it a gut feeling.”

Sabrina felt warm. She had been on a couple of casual dates since her engagement ended, but she hadn’t felt the pull of them the way she did with Nick. She couldn’t read him, couldn't figure out what his motives were, but she didn’t think she was wrong to think there was attraction there.

“That’s a bold claim,” she managed.

“That’s the only kind I make,” Nick said. Another few patrons walked in and he left her once more to serve them.

The night continued that way, her studying here and there, Nick coming back to her when he wasn’t busy elsewhere in the bar to chat or sometimes attempt to study himself. When he announced last call at half past eleven, Sabrina realized the time.

“It’s nearly midnight,” she said when Nick approached.

“It is,” he agreed. He disappeared through a door behind the bar with a tray of dirty glasses. Sabrina waited several minutes for his return. “It’ll be an easy clean up tonight,” he announced when he breezed back through the swinging door. “It’s generally a little easier when Dorian isn’t here. I clean as I go whereas he just stacks things in the back and complains about how long it takes to get out of here.”

“I should probably get going,” Sabrina said. “Can I have my bill?” She realized she had never started a tab for the two drinks Nick had made her.

“What bill?”

“The one that charges me for those two martinis.” Nick shook his head.

“Those are on the house. Experimental drinks.”

“I’ll pay for one,” Sabrina proposed. Nick shook his head again.

“Sorry, Spellman. Can’t charge you. That martini isn't even on the menu.” He had no qualms about waving her bill. Dorian was doing just fine and tended to give away more than he sold on the nights he didn’t want to go home alone. “You good to drive? You seem to be, but those two drinks were strong…”

“I actually walked here,” Sabrina confessed. “I was at the library, so I walked over when it closed. I’m going to call an Uber to take me home.”

Nick saw his opportunity.

“Don’t do that. If you can hang out for a few more minutes, I’ll take you home.”

“It’s out of your way,” Sabrina protested. “I’ll be fine in an Uber.”

“I don’t like the idea of you taking an Uber home alone at midnight,” he stated. “I know Greendale seems perfectly safe, but it just doesn’t feel like a good idea. It won’t take me long to clean up and close up. You’ll be home within the hour if you can wait.”

Sabrina sensed she wasn’t going to win this argument.

“Fine.” She closed her textbook. “But I’m helping you clean up.”

Nick didn’t bother to argue. She proved to be helpful, collecting the last glasses when the final patrons left and wiping down tables while he took care of behind the bar. With her help, he was locking the door in half the time.

“You’re useful, Spellman,” he said as they walked across the parking lot.

“On occasion,” she agreed. He chuckled. His hand went to the small of her back as they walked. He told himself it was just because Dorian’s parking lot was dimly lit and there was no moon to provide additional light that night. It wasn’t because he felt a little protective over her, even if he thought she could take care of herself just fine.

He led her around to the passenger side of a flashy sports car. For Sabrina, it was another ingredient in the mystery that was Nicholas Scratch. She wasn’t surprised to find the interior spotless. It smelled like leather with a faint hint of fresh linen. She could tell he had detailed it recently.

The drive to the mortuary was quick, relatively quiet with just the sound of the radio and the occasional piece of conversation. He put the car in park when he arrived at the Spellmans and let it idle. Sabrina released her seatbelt and looked across the console at him. His eyes were on her, lit only by the dim lights coming from the dashboard.

“Thanks for the ride home,” she said. “And the drinks.”

“Anytime.” She didn’t move to get out of his car. Instead, she continued to look at him. It felt like she was fixed to the seat. She caught her lower lip between her teeth for a moment, then released it. He shifted closer. “I enjoyed your company.”

“Glad I could help.”

He moved still closer.

“You should come by more often.”

Sabrina’s heart thundered in her ears as the pull between them became undeniable.

“Maybe I will.”

She closed the space between them. Nick leaned into the kiss, his lips tentative at first, and then eager. Her response was to part her lips with a sigh and place her hand on his cheek. He released his own seatbelt so he could get closer. Women were one of his vices, but Sabrina Spellman was utterly intoxicating. He managed to get an arm around her waist. Her other arm went around his neck as she came closer. He sat back in his seat, drawing Sabrina towards him, and reached for the button that would move his seat back to give them more room. He pulled Sabrina over the console and into his lap.

Sabrina came willingly. She didn’t normally do things like this. She didn’t straddle guys’ laps in the front seat of their luxury car. She didn’t rock her hips against theirs and run a hand through their hair. But she was doing all of those things right now and there was no denying the effect she was having on Nicholas Scratch.

“Sabrina,” he sighed between kisses, “you should know I’m not the kind of guy to stop.”

“I don’t want you to.”

Nick’s conscience went to battle. He had her permission. She was willing and he was certainly able. She rocked against him again and he groaned. One hand slid into the back pocket of her jeans while the other slipped under her shirt. Her own hands danced along his chest. He wanted her. Badly.

But she wasn’t like the women he typically went home with for a few hours, never a night. If he allowed things to continue, he had a feeling it would be memorable. He felt whatever it was between them. It was so strong he could practically touch it, even if he couldn’t see it. But by morning light, she would see him for who he was and he could forget about her joining him at the bar or allowing him to take the extra seat at her table at the coffee shop. He wasn’t sure he wanted to give that up.

“We should stop,” he breathed as her lips worked along his jaw and his hands caressed the soft skin just below her bra. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, not when he wanted her this damned badly.

“Should we?” she questioned. Her teeth grazed along his throat and he felt his pants get tighter.

“We should,” he said with some effort. His eyes tried to roll back in his head as her lips continued working along his throat. “Fuck, you’re making this hard,” he breathed.

“I know.” Sabrina’s hips moved against his again to prove her point. He groaned and moved his hands to her hips to stall them. Sabrina pulled back and looked at him, finally catching on that he was serious about stopping. “Nick?”

He took her in, perched in his lap, her platinum hair a little messy, her lips full from his own ministrations. What he really wanted was to put her in the passenger seat, buckle her in, and take her anywhere, even his place, a place he generally kept woman-free despite his penchant for them, and have his way with her. She was so damned beautiful it hurt and he was sure he could take her places that farm boy she had nearly married never could. But by morning, things would change, and he didn’t want that either.

“I want you.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and gave himself a gold star for his honesty. “But trust me, Sabrina. We need to stop now, before you regret it.”

“Who's to say I’d regret it?” she questioned. “Maybe this is what I want. Maybe I want a one night stand with you.”

“You don’t,” he assured her. “You’re better than this. I’m not, but I’m trying to be a bigger man than I usually am right about now.”

The sting of rejection was there, but it was numbed by something else Sabrina picked up on. There was something about the way he spoke about himself that continued to lend itself to her belief that there was more to Nick than a bartender working on his Ph.D. She knew she wasn’t going to find out tonight, straddling him in the driver’s seat of his expensive car.

“I guess I should go inside.” She made no effort to leave his lap. Nick sat up so they were chest to chest. He leaned in and kissed her again, soft and sweet, unable to ignore the tug towards her. “Nick?” He lifted his eyes to hers. She was looking at hi with a hint of concern in her beautiful features. “Are you okay?”

Her innocent question did something to him. He felt something shift, something change. He couldn’t define it, didn’t think he wanted to, but it had happened all the same and he didn’t think he was ever going to be able to put whatever it was it back into place.

“I know who I am,” he told her. “If we do this, you’ll regret it. And I don’t want that for you.”

He didn’t want that for him, either.

He kissed her one more time because he simply had to, then gently moved her off of his lap. She gathered her things and opened the passenger door. The awkwardness that should have been there wasn’t. All she felt was – safe.

“Thanks for getting me home,” she said.

“Goodnight, Spellman,” he replied. She smiled at him with what he thought might be wistfulness.

“Goodnight, Nick.”

He waited until she was inside, the door closed behind her. He exhaled, moved his seat back into place, and adjusted himself so it would be more comfortable to drive home. His therapist would call it progress, him stopping something both him and the girl involved wanted in the name of being a better person.

He wasn’t sure what he would call it, however.

All he knew was he didn’t want Sabrina to be one of his many.

He didn’t dare question why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we all expected Nick to walk in on something different, didn't we? But he was still pretty enamored. Enough to ask her to come hang out with him at the bar. What a study session... 
> 
> And what an ending to said study session... The heat is definitely there for this duo. 
> 
> Next update? It's a foggy night... Like, REAL foggy... 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this one!


	5. Treacherous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so surprised by the reaction to last chapter. The words 'unexpected' and 'I didn't expect that' were in nearly every comment. I loved reading them so much. I always have a nagging "people won't like it" feeling when I publish a new chapter, so thank you for making my day. 
> 
> And a lot of you also liked the hint of protectiveness Nick showed. If that sounds like you, you may really like this update.

_This slope is treacherous_   
_This path is reckless_   
_This slope is treacherous_   
_And I, I, I like it_

Sabrina sat across from Roz and tried her best to ignore the awkwardness that hung between them. They had spent the last thirty minutes making small talk, both of them dancing around the obvious elephant in the room. Sabrina didn’t want to lose her friendship with Roz and this, them having drinks together like they used to, needed to happen. Still, it wasn’t easy to sit across from her forever best friend who happened to be dating her ex-fiancé.

On top of the awkwardness between them, she was hyper aware of Nick behind the bar. She felt his eyes on her. She was certain he was trying to catch her eye. It was Thursday night and she hadn’t seen him since Monday night’s incident in the front seat of his car. By the time the morning light had rolled around, she was glad she hadn’t gone through with it as one-night stands weren’t her thing. Within a couple of days, she had even managed to convince herself she had nothing to be embarrassed about. She was a woman. Nick was a man. A handsome one at that. It was late and she had had a couple of strong drinks. Of course she had thrown caution to the wind and nearly done something she never did with the ‘hot new bartender.’ Still, despite how relieved she was that Nick had stopped them before things went too far, she couldn’t help but be curious as to why he had put on the brakes when he so clearly didn’t most of the time.

“Who’s the hot new bartender?” Roz asked, breaking through Sabrina’s reverie. “And do you know him? Because he’s looking at you like he knows you. Or at least wants to.”

Sabrina finally glanced his way, noting how even Roz had called him by the moniker half of Greendale’s available female population had given him. His attention was held by two middle-aged women, both of whom looked like they would be more than happy to take him home with them, but he looked her way as though he sensed her. She quickly turned back to Roz.

“That’s Nick,” she answered. “He’s a Ph.D. student in anthropology.” She chewed on her lip and decided to admit the truth to Roz, thinking it might help ease the tension between them if she shared a secret like they used to as teenagers. “We had a moment on Monday night.”

“A moment?” Roz prodded, sensing something juicy.

“I was close to having a one-night stand with him in the front seat of his car,” Sabrina admitted. “He called it off and this is the first time I’ve seen him since.”

Roz looked shocked.

“You, Sabrina Spellman, were going to have a one-night stand?”

“I mean, at the time? Yes.” She looked Nick’s way again. The bar was busy and he was occupied with a group of frat guys ordering a round of shots. “He caught me dancing in the studio Monday afternoon and asked me to come here for a drink while he was working. You know it's slow here on Mondays. I hung out for a couple of hours, we talked. Then he offered to drive me home. Insisted, actually. I was going to take an Uber, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Next thing you know, I’m in his lap ready and willing.”

“He’s hot,” Roz observed. “He has a certain mysterious vibe about him.”

“He does,” Sabrina admitted. “From what I’ve heard – and he’s only been here like three weeks if that tells you anything – he’s also got a promiscuous side.”

“He’s looking at you again,” Roz informed her. “I think he wants you.”

Sabrina chewed her lip, debating. Her drink – which was incredibly weak, certainly more tonic than gin, and poured by Dorian when she got there a few minutes before Roz – was gone. She looked at Roz, her mind made up. She couldn’t avoid him forever and she figured she may as well face him on her own terms. Besides, she reminded herself, there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

“I’m going to get another drink. Want to come with?”

“I’m good.” Roz picked up her mostly full daiquiri with an annoyingly knowing smile. “I’ll stay here, make sure no one snags our table.” Sabrina gave her a look that made her laugh before she got to her feet. She knew what her friend was doing – sending her to face the boy she nearly slept with on her own terms, alone. She wasn’t sure if she loved Roz or hated her for it.

Nick watched her glide across the room, even as he poured drinks. Everything about her was graceful. She drew his eye – and the eyes of others in the bar – whether she was aware of it or not. She didn’t know that he had caught her dancing again the day before. He hadn’t opened the door this time. Instead, he had watched through the slim glass window as she spun, held his breath as she flipped through an aerial, exhaled when she landed lightly on her feet and never missed a beat. He had no idea why she bothered with law school. She was meant to dance.

He focused on delivering the drinks he had just poured without spilling them as she floated closer.

“Hi,” she greeted when she arrived at the bar, conveniently right in front of him.

“Hey,” he replied with a half-smile as he worked on another drink. Other than watching her dance from the shadows, he hadn’t seen her, and he thought he might miss her. That was a different feeling for him that he was actively ignoring. He was also worried that things would be weird between them now that she had had a few days to realize what she had nearly done. The only thing he could do was find out. “That’s the best friend, right?”

“That’s Roz,” she confirmed. She waited for him to pass off the drink to someone and start their tab. He was artful in the way he turned his attention back to her, ignoring others gathered at the bar, even as he began to mix another drink.

“How’s it going?” he wondered. She smiled hopefully, picking up on the fact that he was testing the waters. She decided to let him know things were okay.

“I could use one of those peach prosecco martini things you made the other night.”

Nick grinned from relief.

“I can do that – if you can give me a few minutes.”

“I’m paying for this one,” she informed him.

“If you insist,” he replied with that half smirk of his. “Head back to your table, Spellman. I’ll bring it over.”

“I can wait…”

“Go hang out with your friend,” he insisted. “I’ll be over in a few.”

“Okay,” Sabrina agreed. She turned to walk away but looked back at Nick. “I wouldn’t hate it if you wanted to add a little more prosecco.” He chuckled and she tried not to notice how his muscles flexed as he shook a martini shaker.

“Leave the bartending to me, Spellman.” He tossed the shaker to the other hand and kept shaking. She shook her head in amusement, turned, and walked back to the table. Roz met her with a raised eyebrow.

“No drink?” she questioned.

“He’s making me a martini he made up on Monday,” Sabrina confessed. “He said he’ll bring it over in a few.”

“Since when did Dorian’s start delivering drinks ordered at the bar to tables?” Roz asked pointedly.

“New policy,” Sabrina stated with a flippant wave of her hand. “If the bartender can’t make your drink right away, he brings it to you. And this martini… It’s complicated.”

“What’s in it?” Roz pressed, reading her friend like a book as she tried her best to deny that she was getting special treatment.

“Vodka, prosecco, peach something and pomegranate something.” Sabrina played with her water glass, fully aware that Roz wasn’t buying what she was trying to sell. “He said the ingredients reminded him of me.”

Roz was smart, intuitive, and knew Sabrina well. She thought about the ingredients and how they related to her friend.

“Vodka is clear and odorless. It looks as harmless as water, but it's strong. You look harmless, and you are – until you have a reason not to be. Sometimes your fierceness can take someone by surprise. Like vodka.” Sabrina fought against the corner of her lips wanted to turn upward. “Prosecco – bubbly and sweet yet tart. Again, like you.” Sabrina made a face this time. Roz laughed. “Peach…” She had to think about that one for a minute. “A peach has that fuzzy exterior that might turn some away, but under the skin it’s sweet. Again, like you.”

“I am not fuzzy,” Sabrina stated, borderline offended. “I shave at least every other day, even in the winter when I wear tights and pants. You know the level of commitment that is.”

Roz laughed.

“You know that’s not what I’m referring to,” she said. “You’ve got a little bit of a tough exterior, Sabrina, despite how unassuming you look. When you’re wound up, you’re a force to be reckoned with.” Sabrina thought of the night she met Nick and how she had been demanding and borderline rude. She reasoned Roz wasn’t wrong. “But under that, you’re one of the kindest people I know. As for the pomegranate? You have to work to get to the seeds and people have to work to be admitted to your inner circle. But once they’re there? They’re there for life.”

Silence fell between them as Sabrina digested what Roz had said.

“I think you’re reading way too far into a few drink ingredients,” she mused after a beat.

“I think the guy likes you,” Roz countered. “The way he keeps looking over here says a lot, but that was a lot of effort that went into a martini of ingredients that reminded him of you.”

“I get the impression he likes a lot of women,” Sabrina said. “I know for a fact that he went home with Dorcas. Prudence was over for dinner and wouldn’t shut up about how annoying Dorcas had been because the ‘hot new bartender’ kept turning her down after one great night.”

“Look at him,” Roz mused. “He is hot. Of course he’s popular with the ladies. Plus, he’s new in town so he’s basically fresh meat.” Roz sat up a little straighter. “And he’s headed this way with your drink.”

Sabrina had to work not to look over her shoulder. Nick appeared moments later.

“Your drink, Spellman.” He smirked at her as he settled it in front of her. “It’s been added to your tab.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “Let me quality check before you walk away.” Nick’s smirk grew as he crossed his arms over his chest and waited. She sipped. “I approve. Good job on the extra bubbles.”

“I’m glad it meets your standards.” He looked at Roz then. “You must be Roz.”

“I am.” Roz extended her hand. “I hear you’re Nicholas Scratch.”

“I am,” Nick confirmed. He looked between them. He desperately wished he wasn’t slammed with drink orders he could barely keep up with. “I’ll be at the bar if you need me. Don’t go to Dorian or the other bartender. Dorian is more focused on luring that guy at the end of the bar into his bed tonight than making drinks and the other guy is better at washing dishes than pouring a decent drink.”

He winked and walked away. Sabrina exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“God, he wants you,” Roz declared.

“He’s just being nice,” Sabrina tried. But even she could sense it. There was a pull there that she couldn’t write off. Part of her wanted to explore it. Part of her wanted to run as far away from it as she could.

“If he offers to be nice again…” Roz hinted.

“I told you, he’s the one that stopped things,” she reminded him. “I was along for the ride. Quite literally.” She took another sip of her drink and tried not to wonder what it meant that Nick had chosen ingredients that reminded him of her. “If he hadn’t stopped things, I don’t think I would have.” She didn’t usually talk this candidly about sex, even with Roz, but there was a small maybe even vindictive part of her that wanted Roz to know that she was just fine with her dating Harvey as she had her own love life to attend to.

“Well, maybe he likes you a little more than he likes most girls,” Roz guessed. “Mixing special drinks, delivering said drinks…”

Sabrina decided it was time for a change in topic.

“Speaking of most girls,” she started in a lame transition, “how was your date with Harvey?”

She saw Roz’s guard go up. She imagined she had one in place of her own.

“Do you really want to know?” Roz asked carefully.

“I do,” Sabrina nodded. “I really do, Roz. I meant it when I said I was okay with him asking you on a date. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want this to change that.”

The truth was, their relationship had already changed because of it. There was no way it couldn’t. But they were still friends and had been for a very long time. They could navigate this new territory in a way that would allow them to remain friends.

“It was – great,” Roz admitted. “We went to dinner, then came here for drinks. It was nice.”

“And?” Sabrina prompted.

“And what?”

“Just ‘great’ and ‘nice?’ You can give me more than that.”

It took Roz a few minutes to fully warm up to the idea of sharing with Sabrina how her date actually went, but by the time she wrapped up, Sabrina was smiling. It had gone well, and they had plans to go out again the next night. She found she didn’t begrudge Roz her happiness, even if that happiness was found with Harvey.

“I’m glad it went well,” she said. “I hope it works out, Roz.”

“I know it’s awkward…” Sabrina shook her head to silence her.

“None of that. I mean, yeah, there’s a certain element of awkwardness there, but I ended things with Harvey for a reason. I can’t begrudge either of you a chance at happiness.”

“You’ll find your happiness too,” Roz said with certainty. She reached across the table and squeezed Sabrina’s hand. Sabrina covered Roz’s hand with her other one and returned the squeeze. The weirdness between the completely dissipated as they separated. Roz picked up her drink, ready to dig some more into her friend’s life. “How’s school going?”

“I’m somewhere between completely over it and wondering why the hell I’m trying to be a lawyer,” Sabrina stated, reaching for her own glass.

“So, it's going well,” Roz mused.

“It’s just – a lot,” Sabrina confessed. “But this is the last year. I’m almost done.”

“You said Nick caught you dancing the other day?” Roz asked curiously.

“Yeah. I snuck into the studio to just – dance. I did it again yesterday.”

“Good,” Roz approved. “You haven’t been dancing nearly as much as you should be. I know that’s huge stress reliever for you.”

“It really is,” Sabrina admitted. “It’s been nice to spend some time in the studio lately.” Nothing alleviated her stress quite like a few turns around the studio. “How’s your dad?”

They passed the next hour and a half catching up like the old friends they were, switching to water once their drinks were gone and giving the alcohol time to work through their system. Sabrina was slightly disappointed that Nick was too busy to be the one to close out her tab as she let another bartender handled it. He did, however, give her a little nod of his head when he noticed she was leaving. She smiled in return, then walked outside with Roz. A heavy mist was falling.

“Be careful driving home,” Roz advised as the pair hugged one another goodbye. “The fog is supposed to be really dense tonight.”

“Right back at you,” Sabrina said as they pulled apart. “Tonight was really fun, Roz.”

“It was,” Roz agreed. It was the first time either of them had referenced the fact that it had been a few weeks since they truly hung out together. They didn’t typically go so long without drinks or burgers at Cee’s. “I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Sabrina countered.

The pair parted ways to their vehicles. Sabrina drove along the familiar backroads that would take her to the mortuary at a respectable speed. The mist had picked up to a light rain and Roz hadn’t been wrong about the dense fog that seemed to only be getting thicker as she wound through the heavily wooded area.

Without warning, a herd of deer materialized in the road before her. She had just a moment to smash down on her brake before the sound of shrieking brakes and skidding rubber filled her ears, followed quickly by the horrifying thud of a deer’s body slamming into the hood of her car. She screamed and let go of the wheel, ducking on instinct as the large animal’s body rolled up her hood at the same time her airbags deployed. The deer slammed into her windshield, shattering it, before it flopped to the ground and her car came to a halt in the ditch, miraculously not hitting anything else.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, sitting upright in her seat, her chest heaving. She batted at the airbags she felt trapped by. “Oh my God…”

She did a quick assessment. She thought she felt okay. She was pretty sure nothing was broken at least. She stayed put, trying to calm her breathing and slow her racing pulse, too dumbstruck by what had happened so quickly to do much else. When things began to slow down a bit for her to comprehend what had happened, she recognized she needed help.

“My phone…”

She fumbled for the passenger seat, searching for her bag. She couldn’t find it, her efforts blocked by both the deflating air bags and the fact that her bag seemed to have been thrown somewhere in the car by the impact.

Acting on instinct, she pushed her way out of the car and stumbled into the road. One look told her the car was totaled. The front was severely damaged, the windshield shattered and bent inward. She had to look away from the blood and hair smeared across her vehicle. She knew the deer’s body was likely on the other side of her car.

She tried to take a few deep breaths, but her chest felt tight. The rain dampened her skin. The fog was thick and felt oppressive as it settled around her as though it were trying to wrap her up in it and make her disappear. It occurred to her that she needed to get out of the road in case another vehicle came along. With visibility so low, they might not see her in time.

“I need my phone,” she said again, talking out loud to herself. “Okay. Calm down, Sabrina. You’re okay.” She took another shaky breath. “You’re fine. Just get your phone and call for help.” She was once more trying to navigate through the mess of airbags when headlights broke through the fog. She was cautious as the car slowed. It pulled to the side of the road and its hazard lights started to flash, their orange color dimmed by the fog. Sabrina eased out of the car, hoping whomever it was was friendly as she was on the side of a backroad late at night with nowhere to go. She recognized the vehicle. There wasn’t another in Greendale like it. “Nick!”

Pure relief flooded her as Nick emerged from the driver’s side.

“Sabrina?” he questioned. His movements quickened when he realized it was her. He was at her side in two long strides. “What happened?” His hands went to her shoulders. He turned her so he could see her better, relying on the headlights of his own car. “Are you okay?”

“Deer,” she answered in a rush. “I didn’t see them. I hit one…”

“Are you okay?” Nick repeated with more urgency. His fingertips went to her forehead. “You have a goose egg forming. Did you hit your head?”

“I don’t think so,” she shook her head, trying to recall what exactly had happened in the short moments the accident had lasted. She was rewarded with a dull ache she tried to push back to wherever it came from. “Maybe… It all happened so fast. I ducked and the airbags came out…”

“Okay,” Nick nodded, sensing her growing panic. He himself was strangely calm. “It’s okay. Have you called the police yet?”

Sabrina shook her head again. “I can’t find my phone. It’s in my bag and I can’t find it in my car… The airbags… It got thrown somewhere… It’s only been a few minutes...”

“I’ll call.” Nick reached into his back pocket and found his phone. Sabrina listened as he calmly relayed what had happened and where they were, his eyes never leaving her. With responsibility out of her hands, Sabrina started to shake. She wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to stop it. “Yes,” Nick said into the phone, “I’m going to stay with her. I do think she needs paramedics.”

“No,” Sabrina shook her head again. “I’m okay…”

Nick ignored her protests, but his hand returned to her arm. He left it there in an act of comfort.

“They’re on their way,” he reported when he hung up. He considered her. She was damp from the rain and looked cold. He didn’t hesitate to shrug out of his jacket. “Here, put this on.” He draped it around her shoulders and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s okay, Sabrina. You’re okay.”

A violent shiver ran through her. Unbidden, tears sprang to her eyes as the events of the last few minutes caught up with her.

“I didn’t see the deer,” she whimpered. “It’s so foggy… I wasn’t speeding… I had a couple of drinks, but I’m fine… The one Dorian made me was weak and the one you made me… I finished it nearly two hour before I drove… I just didn’t see the deer… There was herd of them... They came out of nowhere…”

“Hey, come here.” Nick pulled her into his arms. She leaned into his embrace, seeking comfort in his strong arms. “There’s next to no visibility. I didn’t see you until I was about a hundred yards away.” He was sure she was sober. That wasn’t remotely a concern of his. “It was an accident, Sabrina. It could have happened to anyone.”

She just burrowed closer. He moved a hand into her damp hair, content to hold her closer. She trembled against him.

“Why don’t you sit in my car?” he proposed. “You’re cold and damp.” She didn’t protest as he navigated her towards the car. He opened the driver’s side door and guided her into the seat. His car was still running. It was already warm, but he reached past her, turned up the heat and flipped on the seat warmers. He squatted in front of her and used the car’s interior lighting to better survey her for injury. “That bump isn’t too bad, but you’ve got a bit of a bruise forming here.” He brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. “Anything else hurt?”

“I’m okay…” She lifted her hand to feel the bump on her forehead but winced. Now that the immediate rush of adrenaline had worn off, she recognized her shoulder hurt.

“What is it?” Nick questioned.

“My shoulder.” She tried to lift her arm again but hissed in pain. Nick assessed quickly. He wasn’t a doctor, but he knew an above average amount about the body, thanks to his studies. Nothing appeared broken or dislocated.

“The seatbelt,” he guessed. “You’re probably going to have a pretty nasty bruise.”

“Great,” she mumbled.

The sound of sirens in the distance reached them.

“Is there someone you want me to call?” Nick wondered. “Ambrose or your aunts? Roz, even?”

“I don’t want to worry them,” Sabrina shook her head, not thinking clearly. “Hilda will fret and Zelda will try to take over things and Ambrose will make jokes about how bad of a driver I am even though I’m not…”

“Okay.” Nick brushed her hair back. “We won’t call anyone yet, but I’m going to stay with you, okay?” Sabrina nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude that he wasn’t going to leave her alone. A police car appeared, followed by another. Nick stood and driven solely on instinct, pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Stay right here, Spellman. I’ll talk to them.”

Sabrina did as instructed. She heard Nick greet the officers, but she tuned them out as they assessed the scene, opting instead to pull his jacket tighter around her. It smelled like him and she found comfort in that. Her shoulder throbbed and a headache was starting to settle in. She was happy to stay right where she was and let Nick handle things.

“Sabrina?” She lifted her head from where she had let it lull against his seat. Nick approached with an officer as an ambulance arrived on the scene. She accepted his hand as he helped her out of the car. “This is Officer Stewart.”

“Hi, Ms. Spellman,” the officer greeted. “Looks like you went hunting with your car, hey?” Sabrina was unamused by his joke. Nick sniffed his own disapproval. The officer hurried on. “First things first, let’s get you checked out.”

For the next half hour, Sabrina cooperated as the police officers asked questions and a couple of paramedics checked her over. Nick stayed nearby, never out of sight, even as the rain picked up and the fog continued to thicken. Despite being in the back of the ambulance, Sabrina was cold. She knew he must be freezing by now.

“Nothing appears broken and I don’t think you have a concussion,” a paramedic concluded. “You’re going to be quite sore for a few days and I recommend getting checked out by your doctor tomorrow, but there doesn’t appear to be an urgent need for you to go to the hospital.”

“Are you sure?” Nick asked before Sabrina could speak. “She hit her head…”

“She’s certainly going to have a goose egg and a bit of a headache, but I think she’s okay to go home tonight,” the paramedic told him. She looked back to Sabrina. “Your car is obviously not taking you anywhere, however. Do you need us to call someone to come get you?”

“I’ll take her home,” Nick spoke up. The paramedic looked from him back to Sabrina.

“Is that okay?” she asked. Sabrina nodded.

“We’re friends,” she said. “He’ll get me home safely.”

Once Sabrina was cleared to go and a tow truck called for her vehicle, Nick escorted her to his car, then returned to hers to find her bag with the help of an officer. The gesture touched Sabrina – she had forgotten all about her purse, but Nick seemed to be in complete control. Nick slid behind the wheel but didn’t put his car in drive yet.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“My shoulder and my head hurt,” she admitted. She refused to admit just how bad they hurt. “I want some Tylenol and my bed.”

“We’re heading that way,” Nick promised her. “I sent Ambrose a text. I let him know you’re okay, but that you had an accident. He’s expecting you.”

Sabrina rested her head against the seat and looked at Nick as he shifted his car into drive and pulled back onto the road. It had idled on the side of the road the entire time, the driver’s side door open. She was certain the rain had dampened his interior, but they were both wet enough now that it didn’t matter.

“Thank you, Nick,” she said softly. “You have been – wonderful.” He kept his eyes on the road but chanced a glance at her.

“I wasn’t going to leave you on the side of the road, Spellman,” he replied with a half smile. “I wouldn’t have given just anyone my jacket, though.” She smiled a bit.

“What were you doing on the road anyway?” she wondered. “I thought you were working?”

“I had the early shift,” he answered. “I opened the place, so I got out of there earlier. Someone else gets to close up tonight.” He had planned to go home, microwave something to eat, and study until he fell asleep, but all things considered, he hadn’t hated how the night had turned out, so long as Sabrina wasn’t badly hurt. “It looks like my timing was impeccable.”

Sabrina smiled a little bigger.

Nick drove slowly, both because conditions warranted it and because he thought Sabrina needed it. He peeked at her from time to time, checking in, wondering at the odd sort of protectiveness he yet again felt over her. When he rolled to a stop at the mortuary, he turned off the car, got out, and met Sabrina as she pushed open the passenger door. She was moving slower as the aches and pains began to settle in.

“I’ve got that.” He took her bag from her, then helped her out of the car. He kept an arm around her as he guided her up the porch stairs. She supposed she could argue that she was fine, that she could climb the steps herself, but she didn’t want to. She was exhausted, sore, and she liked having Nick to lean on. He was strong and steady and in the moment, she appreciated that about him immensely. Ambrose met them at the door.

“Ah, cousin,” he sighed, taking her in.

“Is that Sabrina?” Hilda bustled into view and pushed past Ambrose who scowled at her mannerisms. “Sabrina! Love! Oh, darling. Nicholas, bring her inside where I can get a good look at her.”

Hilda spun on her heel and marched away, leaving the rest of them to follow.

“Lucky for you, Zelda’s not here,” Ambrose said as he stood aside to allow Nick and Sabrina to enter. “She’d be off trying to revive the dead deer so she could sue it for damages.”

“Where is she?” Sabrina wondered. “Mambo’s or Blackwood’s?”

“I dare hope Mambo’s.”

Nick was curious about Zelda and her apparent love triangle, but his full focus was on Sabrina. He guided her to the couch as directed by Hilda.

“The paramedics checked her out,” he told Hilda. “She’s got a bump on the head and her shoulder is sore from where the seatbelt caught her. She has a few bumps and bruises. But she was really lucky.” He considered Sabrina now that he could properly see in her the light. She looked exhausted and the bruise forming on her cheekbone was more of an abrasion. A hot bath and a change of clothes would likely do her a lot of good. And yet, she was still beautiful. “They did say she should get checked over by her doctor in the morning.”

“Oh she will,” Hilda said in a tone that left no room for argument. “Sabrina, love, I imagine you could use a couple of painkillers and a cup of tea.”

“And a shower and my bed,” Sabrina concluded.

“We’ll get you in bed soon enough, but I want a look at that head of yours myself,” Hilda declared. “Ambrose, go put on a kettle.” Ambrose didn’t bother to protest. She turned to Nick. “Nicholas, would you like a cup of tea as well?” She took in his damp appearance. “You need one to warm you up.”

“No thank you, Ms. Spellman,” he shook his head. “I should get home. I just wanted to make sure she got home okay.”

Hilda sighed.

“I’m so glad you found her,” she said. “These backroads on a night like this…” She trailed off, but Nick understood. He’d had similar thoughts. Anyone could have come along, perhaps someone not as friendly as him. She could have been hurt worse if someone didn’t see her vehicle on the side of the road or if she herself had been outside of her car, lost in the fog until it was too late. “Thank you for staying with her, for bringing her home.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” Nick said. He meant it. “Sabrina? I’m going to head home…” Hilda muttered something about ‘Tylenol’ and all but fled the room, leaving them alone. “I’ll check on you tomorrow, okay?”

Sabrina got to her feet slowly and shrugged off his jacket.

“Thank you, Nick,” she said as she passed him the piece of leather. She felt cold without it. “I meant what I said earlier. You were wonderful tonight.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t worse than it was.” He let his fingertips graze over the bruise on her cheek. There was something about her that made him feel like he had to touch her. “Get some rest, Spellman. And then get that head checked tomorrow.”

“I will,” she promised him. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. Nick’s arms went around her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Be safe driving home, okay?” she requested. “One accident is enough for the night.”

“I’ll be fine,” he promised. He pressed a faint kiss to her hair. He didn’t think about what it meant, why he was affectionate with Sabrina in a way he wasn’t with others. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

He left her then and met Ambrose in the entry.

“It’s just us now,” Ambrose said. “How bad was it?” Nick sighed.

“Her car is totaled,” he said with certainty. “The whole front end was crumbled, the windshield shattered and caved in. All the airbags deployed. She’s damned lucky, Ambrose. The deer she hit was massive. One of the officers made a comment about how if it had hit another way its horns could have come through the windshield and done some serious damage to her. She wasn’t speeding or anything like that. It was a total accident, but it could have been a lot worse. I don’t know how she didn’t end up hitting a tree.”

Ambrose took in the way Nick looked genuinely shaken up. The bartender had lost his color and the night’s events had left his usually coiffed hair a mess of tight curls scattered in every direction.

“Are you okay?” he wondered. “You look a bit pale.”

“I’m fine,” Nick said a little quickly. “It’s been a long day. Sabrina’s not the only one eager to get to bed.”

Ambrose didn’t quite buy it, but he didn’t press the issue.

“Go home, get some sleep,” Ambrose advised “We’ll take care of her.”

“Call me if anything changes?” Nick requested.

“Of course,” Ambrose nodded. “Thank you again, Nicholas. You really took care of her tonight.”

Once he was in the safety of his car, Nick slumped into his seat and breathed in and out several times. “Shit,” he breathed as his chest threatened to tighten. “She’s okay.” He exhaled again. “She’s fine.” He took another few moments to breathe and allow his chest time to loosen before he put his car in reverse and backed out of the Spellmans’ drive.

He thanked his lucky stars he had a therapy appointment in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of flirting and then Nick was the hero. I don't know if you've ever hit a deer, but I have - on a very narrow, heavily wooded backroad in the early morning hours with little cell phone service - and it was terrifying. Sabrina had quiet the knight in shining armor, however. One that was certainly acting like she was more than an acquaintance, wouldn't you say? 
> 
> Roz certainly seems to be onto him at any rate. I'm going to her if I ever need someone to decipher a mixed drink's meaning for me. 
> 
> Up next? I do believe Sabrina owes Nick a thank you for his services... And it may just be time for the Farmer's Market once more. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought of this one!


	6. It's Nice To Have A Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of loved all the comments about animals hit by cars last update. We're all still in one piece, so I suppose we all lucked out - even if we didn't have a Nick to swoop in and rescue us... 
> 
> Of note, I took the liberty of making Sabrina a bit older - 5 - at the time of her parents death for this one. It made more sense for her and how she relates to Nick... Later... 
> 
> Now, shall we see more sparks fly between our favorite couple? Twenty questions, as the Taylor Swift lyrics suggest... A bit of "getting to know you" with a side of scandalous Zelda, coming right up.

_Light pink sky up on the roof_   
_Sun sinks down, no curfew_   
_Twenty questions, we tell the truth_   
_You've been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too_   
_Something gave you the nerve_   
_To touch my hand_

Sabrina was sore all over. She had humored Hilda and allowed her to take her to the doctor, but the doctor had confirmed what the paramedic had said the night before. She was bruised and had a bump on the head, but there was no sign of a concussion. She was to take it easy for a few days, limit her screen time, and take pain killers as needed. She didn’t entirely hate the excuse to skip classes and had already requested an extension on her paper due on Monday which the professor had readily granted.

“Hungry, dear?” Hilda entered the living room with a tray holding Sabrina’s favorite homemade tomato soup and a thick, gooey grilled cheese.

“I could eat,” Sabrina answered. It was well past lunch by now, her appointment having delayed the meal. She sat up from where she had slouched on the couch and allowed Hilda to position the tray over her lap. The hovering and attentiveness would get old eventually, but for now, she would allow it. It had been a while since her aunt fussed over her. She had tried when her engagement ended, but Zelda had quickly put an end to that, told Sabrina to buck up, and carried on about her day. Still, Hilda had slipped her a few extra treats and allowed her to slum around in her bathrobe when Zelda wasn’t home for at least the first few weeks.

“You’re feeling okay?” Hilda wondered.

“My shoulder hurts,” Sabrina admitted. “My head isn’t too bad, but the bruise on my shoulder is special.”

“You can have another round of painkillers in an hour or so.” Hilda watched her niece dip her grilled cheese into her soup. She had cut the sandwich into squares, the way she did when Sabrina was young. She blinked back a couple of surprise tears as she considered what could have happened to her only niece. “I’m just so grateful dear Nicholas happened upon you.”

“Me too,” Sabrina admitted. “I was starting to panic when he showed up.” Now that she had had a good night’s sleep and some time to reflect, she wasn’t sure what would have happened had Nick not appeared when he did. She had been spiraling quickly.

“He seems rather smitten with you,” Hilda continued as she settled onto a nearby armchair.

“He was just being nice,” Sabrina reminded her. “He did find me in a totaled car completely freaking out, after all. Any decent person would have done what he done last night.”

“Love, ‘nice’ doesn’t call your cousin to give a heads up that he’s bringing you home after an accident,” Hilda pointed out. “’Nice’ certainly walk you inside, give your aunt a full report from the paramedic, and kiss your hair on the way out.”

“You saw that?” Sabrina wondered. She was certain her cheeks tinged with a bit of pink. Nick had certainly been more affectionate than most any other good Samaritan would have been.

“Of course I did,” Hilda said matter-of-factly. “I ducked back into the kitchen so he wouldn’t catch me, let the pair of you have a moment alone together. Ambrose said he texted him early this morning to check on you.”

“He was rather sweet last night,” Sabrina admitted, because she could talk to Hilda about these things. “He made sure I was okay, gave me his jacket, called the police. He put me in his car to stay warm and dry while we waited. Honestly, he was wonderful.’

“I quite like him,” Hilda decided. That was high praise coming from her as she had thought Harvey walked on water. “He was polite and well-mannered while he was here for dinner, certainly took care of you last night…”

Sabrina said nothing. She thought she might quite like him too, but she was far more reserved about it than Hilda.

“This soup is fantastic,” she said.

“You’re trying to change the subject,” Hilda accused.

“Just making an observation.”

“Hmm,” Hilda said knowingly. She wasn’t having it. “I think you should thank Nichola for being so kind by asking him to dinner.” Sabrina gave her aunt a look. “Don’t look at me like that. There’s nothing to say a girl can’t ask out a guy. I asked Cee out after all and look at us now.”

“Married and still living with your sister, niece, and nephew?” Sabrina quipped.

“It’s a big house,” Hilda stated. “Don’t be cheeky. Besides, Zelda rarely sleeps here, you had moved out when we were newly married, and Ambrose… Well, I suppose Ambrose needs a permanent address for his school papers, but his bed is emptier than not.”

Sabrina decided to gloss right over the fact that she had moved back in with her aunts after having to move out of the small apartment she shared with Harvey. That was a particularly touchy part of her engagement as she had rather enjoyed the freedom that came with living on her own, no matter how many perks came with living with Hilda.

“I don’t think that Nick’s the dating type,” she said. “It doesn’t quite go with his M.O.”

“And yet he was treating you like you’re something precious to him,” Hilda pointed out. There was a knock on the door before Sabrina could say argue that the word ‘precious’ seemed to be a reach. “Eat your lunch, love. I’ll go see who is here. I’m expecting an elderly couple that wants to get a jump on their post-humorous plans. I expect that will be them.”

Sabrina scrunched her face at the thought of a couple sitting down to plan their funeral theoretically long before they died, but it was a fairly common occurrence in the Spellman mortuary. She busied herself with her late lunch, grateful for the interruption as Hilda was sure to lean further into her efforts to set her up with Nick. She wasn’t left alone long, however.

“Sabrina?” Hilda was beaming when she reappeared. “Look who stopped by!” She waved her arm in a gallant manner to usher Nick into the room. He looked a bit embarrassed at Hilda’s over the top welcome. Sabrina certainly was. “Nicholas, darling, do you like tomato soup?”

“Oh, um, yes,” Nick nodded, eyes darting from Sabrina to Hilda and back again. “But I’m fine…”

“I’ll go ladle you a bowl,” Hilda paid no mind to his protest. “Give me just a few minutes. I’ll make you a grilled cheese, too. Can’t have tomato soup without grilled cheese…”

She fluttered away, now on a mission. Nick watched her go, then turned to Sabrina with a confused expression.  
not.”

“You don’t come to this house and not eat something,” Sabrina told him. “Hilda won’t allow it.”

“There’s no point in telling her I just had a sandwich, is there?” Nick asked.

“There’s not,” Sabrina confirmed. “I would suggest saving room for dessert. You’re having it whether you want it or not.” Nick took a few steps into the room. Sabrina picked up on his hesitancy. “You’ve been told you’re having a late lunch with us,” she reminded him. “You can come in and sit down, Nick.”

She found the bashful look he gave her enduring.

“I come from a formal family,” he explained. “I was taught to wait for an invitation.” He offered no more but took a seat on the armchair closest to Sabrina, his eyes still assessing her. Her cheekbone sported a deep purple bruise and was a bit swollen while the abrasion he had noted the night before was a harsh rough red. The bump on her forehead was pronounced and he noted she held her arm in a way that indicated her shoulder was sore. “I wanted to check on you,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sore,” she confessed. “My shoulder has a nasty bruise that seems to just keep getting bigger and deeper purple and my whole body seems to be one big ache. But I did go get checked out by my doctor and he cleared me of a concussion. I’m to take it easy for a few days, ice my cheek, take pain medicine as needed. No school, limited screens… Basically I’m just supposed to sit here.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said sincerely. “Your car most certainly was not.”  
“It’s totaled,” Sabrina shared. “I mean, that was pretty obvious, but the body shop confirmed it this morning. Zelda is taking care of the insurance company and all of that, thankfully.” She was quite certain Zelda was relishing in getting to boss around the poor claims agent that had the misfortune of answering her call. For someone who fussed at Hilda for coddling, Zelda had her moments as well. “Did you get some sleep last night?”

“I did,” Nick nodded. He had slept restlessly after taking a long time to fall asleep in the first place. He had gone to his therapy appointment that morning, grateful his therapist had needed to reschedule his usual Tuesday appointment for Friday after what had transpired with Sabrina’s accident. He had all but word vomited the moment he sat down instead of his usual act of sitting stoic and making his therapist pull things out of him, then took a few minutes to get himself together and have some lunch before driving to the Spellman mortuary to check on Sabrina for himself. “I even unpacked a box.”

“Did you?” Sabrina replied with amusement.

“One whole box,” Nick confirmed, making Sabrina chuckle. Really, he had just been desperate for something to do to distract him from the thoughts swimming through his mind before it was time for his appointment. Unpacking seemed like the logical thing.

“And that sandwich you had for lunch?” she continued.

“Purchased from the only fast food restaurant in this town,” Nick confirmed. Sabrina laughed in earnest, even if it made her whole body protest. Nick smiled at her and Sabrina found she didn’t have an option in the matter. She couldn’t avoid the pull towards Nick, even if she wanted to.

“What are you doing tomorrow morning?” she wondered, deciding she would take Hilda’s advice after all.

“Well, I’d like to be sleeping in,” Nick mused. “But tomorrow is Saturday, which means I can expect a bluegrass band outside my window at approximately eight o’clock.”

“Would you maybe want to meet me in the square around ten?” Sabrina asked. “I’d like to buy you one of those greasy breakfast sandwiches you love as a thank you for all of your help last night.”

Nick’s insides did a weird sort of flip. He thought of what he had discussed with his therapist that morning and decided it would be okay to give into his desires when it came to Sabrina, at least this time. A breakfast sandwich at the farmer’s market was harmless.

“You don’t have to thank me, Sabrina,” he shook his head. “But I would still like to meet you in the square tomorrow morning.” He shrugged a shoulder, trying to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal that he was agreeing while internally, he was trying to stay calm and collected. “Since I’m going to be awake and all.”

Sabrina laughed again which made Nick smile. It would be okay, having breakfast with her at the farmer’s market. Hilda came into the room carrying a tray for Nick then. She beamed at Sabrina’s laughter and thought Nick looked rather content as well.

“Nicholas? Your lunch.” She placed the tray on the coffee table in front of him. “I cut your grilled cheese into squares without thinking. I used to do it all the time for Sabrina and I did it for her earlier, thought it would be a nice gesture after last night, but I realize now you may think I see you as a child.”

Nick smiled at her ramblings.

“It’s fine.” His lips twisted into a reminiscent sort of way. “My mom used to cut my sandwiches like this when I was a kid.”

Sabrina’s heart squeezed. Hilda had no idea Nick’s parents were gone, but she thought she might have tripped further into the pull of Nicholas Scratch with the simple revelation. She sensed he didn’t share a lot of himself easily and admitting his mother used to cut his sandwiches into squares was a large insight into who he was.

The doorbell rang.

“That must be my couple,” Hilda declared. “I’m going to leave the pair of you to chat and such. Enjoy your lunch. I set out a pound cake for when you’re done. It’s already sliced. Fresh berries and whipped cream are in the fridge.”

She floated out of the room without waiting for their response.

“Her couple?” Nick questioned.

“An elderly couple is coming by to make plans for their funeral,” Sabrina explained. “It’s as odd as it sounds.”

“Growing up here must have been weird,” Nick mused. He took a bite of his soup. “Dear God, this is good.” Sabrina chuckled.

“Everything Hilda makes is good,” she told him. “And yes, growing up here was odd. It’s safe to say I saw a lot of weird things.” She took a bite of her grilled cheese and looked at Nick as she chewed. A thought had occurred to her that morning while she thought about the night before, and Nick’s comment about his sandwiches had reminded her of it. “Are you okay?” she asked. “I don’t mean to get too personal, but I know your parents…”

“I’m okay,” he said with a nod, understanding what she was asking. “You’re okay, so I’m okay.”

He prayed she would leave it at that. He had spent an hour talking through this very subject with his therapist. He didn’t want to do it again with Sabrina.

“Okay,” she nodded, accepting his words for what they were. She knew could push too much and she was mindful of that. She hadn’t always been, but she thought she had improved over the years. She wanted to press. She wanted to know more about Nick. But she told herself to be patient, that if Nick wanted to share more with her, he would. She decided to change the subject to something she knew he could talk about. “I bet you’ve seen some weird things as an anthropologist…”

Somehow, the entire afternoon passed with Nick sitting with her in the mortuary living room, talking about nothing and everything. They ate dessert, Nick letting Sabrina fix the plates even as he hovered nearby in case she needed help, then talked some more. Sabrina found he was easy to talk to. He seemed genuinely interested in her, wanted to hear what she had to say. She certainly found him interesting, even if he had a tendency to go off on a tangent about this culture or that piece of research that she didn’t quite follow but tried to because he talked about it in a way that made sense, like he was telling her a story that happened to have actually happened. And he was passionate about it which drew her in even more.

It was Zelda’s arrival that made Nick check the time.

“Damn,” he swore. “I need to get going. I’m working tonight and I need to change before I head in.” He got to his feet, recognizing that he wasn’t really ready to leave even if he only had a half hour to change from the t-shirt he had on now to the button down he liked to wear behind the bar and still get to work on time. “Can you tell Hilda thank you for me? I’d tell her myself, but…”

“But she’s down in the morgue,” Sabrina finished with a smile. She got to her feet as well although a bit slower. “I’ll tell her.” She walked with Nick to the door. “Thank you for stopping by.”

“I didn’t realize I stayed so long,” he replied. He grinned at her. “You’re decent company, Spellman.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Sabrina flirted right back. “See you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there,” Nick confirmed. “Ten o’clock in the square.”

“Ten o’clock,” Sabrina confirmed. “I’ll see you then.”

Nick winked at her and left her at the door. When Sabrina turned around, Zelda was there, one arm folded over her waist, her smoking stick held up by the other hand. Smoke curled into the air, and her smirk was wicked.

“Looks like you’re finally moving on,” she said with barely disguised glee.

“Nick just stopped by to make sure I was okay after my accident,” Sabrina tried.

“Right,” Zelda nodded once. “And I’m the Queen of Sheba.”

“You think you are,” Sabrina quipped.

“I should be,” Zelda returned fire. “I approve of that one.” She nodded in the direction Nick had left. “He’s a man worthy of you.”

“I think I’m going to go upstairs, rest,” Sabrina said in an effort to escape her aunt. “I was in a car accident yesterday after all.”

“Yes, yes, run along,” Zelda chirped as she turned on her heel to head into her study. “Do pretend to not be interested in the handsome Dr. Scratch.”

“He’s not a doctor…”

“Yet,” Zelda said. “And while I recognize that it’s not necessarily in his field of study, I wouldn’t turn him down should he offer you an exam.”

“Oh my God!” Sabrina blanched. “Auntie Zee!” Zelda smirked.

“I’ll call you when dinner is ready,” she said before shutting the study door behind her.

Sabrina blew out a breath. Her cheeks practically burned from the flush of pink that filled them. And yet, as she thought about the feeling that had coursed through her veins as she straddled Nick in the front seat of his car just a few days earlier, she couldn’t help but think maybe, just maybe, Hilda wasn’t the only aunt that gave half decent advice.

* * *

Nick was nervous.

He didn’t get nervous. He was a lot of things, but nervous was never one of them. He generally had confidence to a fault and when he didn’t, he was so good at faking it that he somehow always ended up feeling confident in the end.

But as he descended the stairs of his apartment a few minutes before he was due to meet Sabrina, he was nervous.

He had left Dorian’s around three in the morning after a wildly busy night, listening to Dorian heckle him as they crossed the parking lot to their respective vehicles. Dorian had a suitor waiting for him at car while Nick had turned down multiple opportunities in favor of going home alone. Dorian knew his bartender well. That wasn’t his M.O., but Nick hadn’t been about to reveal that he didn’t feel up to casual sex.

Technically, he had the desire for it. The women that threw themselves at him throughout the evening were certainly beautiful and in any other instance, he would have been thrilled to go home with any one of them. But he had thought of his plan to meet Sabrina the next morning and it didn’t feel right to spend the night before with another woman.

He had his standard restless night of sleep, his dreams even more haunted than usual, and woke up to the bluegrass band warming up just before eight. He typically would have rolled out of bed and put on the first thing he found clean, but Sabrina always looked nice, even when she was dressed down, and he felt the need to at least try a bit harder – without trying too hard. He had ultimately settled on his usual jeans and a long sleeve white henley. He was already breaking a few of his self-made rules when it came to her, what was another when it came to his wardrobe?

She was already there, perched on a bench, looking far too beautiful for her surroundings. She was dressed in jeans and a colorful sweater. He was learning her red lipstick and hairband were her signature look. She lit up when she spied him.

“Spellman,” he greeted as she got to her feet.

“Scratch,” she replied.

“How are you feeling?” he asked right away. “And how did you get here? It occurred to me as I walked down the stairs to meet you that your car is totaled.”

“I walked,” Sabrina said simply.

“You walked?” Nick repeated. “That’s at least twenty minutes…”

“Closer to thirty and yes,” she said. “I do it all the time. I can always call Ambrose or an Uber if I decide I don’t want to walk home.”

“You’re something else, Spellman.” He put his hands in his pockets to fight the urge to reach out and touch her. “You didn’t answer my first question though. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” she assured him. “Still a bit sore, but no more headache and I can move my shoulder a little more today.” She considered him. She thought he looked tired, but she didn’t comment. “How about that breakfast sandwich, Scratch?”

He allowed her to buy his breakfast, even if it went against his sometimes old-fashioned belief that the guy should always pay. He reasoned this wasn’t a date, for one, and that Sabrina did whatever she wanted anyway. He teased her when she bought herself one as well and the pair strolled through the market together, Sabrina greeting what Nick thought had to be half of the population of Greendale as she told him tidbits about vendors, including which ones were her favorite.

“Good morning, Father Blackwood,” she said to a tall, thin man wearing a collar.

“Sabrina,” he replied evenly.

She continued to beam at him despite his cold greeting.

“How are you?”

“Wonderful,” he answered dryly. His eyes drifted to Nick, but he didn’t bother to introduce himself. “If you’ll excuse me.”

He swept away. Nick looked over his shoulder, then back to Sabrina who was smirking.

“Some priest,” he mentioned.

“That’s Faustus Blackwood,” she explained as they resumed walking. “He and my aunt Zelda have what one would call a volatile relationship. His wife, Constance, died in childbirth with their twins, Judas and Judith. Zelda was her midwife…”

“I thought she was a directrix,” Nick interrupted.

“I’m about to explain to you why I am the sanest Spellman in the family,” Sabrina informed him. He grinned in amusement. “Constance died and Zelda became a sort of pseudo mother figure to the twins. You’ve met Ambrose’s not girlfriend Prudence, right?”

“A few times now, yes,” Nick confirmed.

“Well, Prudence is Blackwood’s daughter from his first marriage. I’m not one to gossip, but all I’m saying is that his first wife died under mysterious circumstances.” Nick let out a low whistle. “Anyways, Prudence and Zelda have been sort of faux mothers to those kids over the years. As for Blackwood, he has always had his hand in the running of the Academy, or at least tried to. He and my dad were former best friends. They had a falling out over something – I’m still not sure what, but I imagine it was Blackwood’s fault – and Blackwood set out to basically take the Academy from my family.”

“This is like… A daytime soap version of the Hatfields and McCoys,” Nick commented, trying to follow along with the twisted story of feuding families.

“You’re not far off,” Sabrina agreed. “Blackwood got close to Zelda, wooed her into believing he was a good guy, even asked her to marry him.” She made a face. “That was a row for the ages when she told Ambrose and I over dinner.”

“I imagine it was.” Nick could sense Sabrina’s dislike of this Father Blackwood character.

“Blackwood used his position as her fiancé and then husband – I wore black to the wedding, by the way – to maneuver his way into a leadership position at the Academy with intentions of stealing it out from under her. He managed it for a brief period and completely overhauled the place with asinine policies and a clear favoritism of males. Students dropped out left and right – I tried, but Zelda wouldn’t hear of it – staff and facility quit… He was left with nothing. Zelda charmed the board into giving her control once more and served him with divorce papers moments after the board fired him and re-instated her.”

“And yet I have a feeling it didn’t end there…”

“It didn’t,” Sabrina confirmed. “Zelda still has a soft spot for the twins who are actual terrors because look who they have raising them. I mean, he named the boy Judas, for crying out loud.”

“That is an interesting choice for a man of the cloth,” Nick agreed.

“Those twins are constantly in trouble for something at the Academy which means Blackwood is constantly being summoned to her office,” Sabrina continued. “I’ll leave out the sordid details, but you can draw your own conclusions.”

“I can indeed, Nick mused. “I’ve heard a Mambo mentioned. Who is she? Or do I want to know?”

“Oh, that’s Zelda’s other lover,” Sabrina said in an airy sort of manner. Nick choked on his coffee. Sabrina kept talking. “She teaches at the Academy. She’s weird and awesome and I’m pretty sure she practices voodoo in her spare time. Zelda claims I’m ridiculous, but I know what I know and Ambrose agrees with me.”

Nick chuckled. He was entirely amused, completely taken with Sabrina as she told the story of her family. He had gathered that they were an eclectic bunch, but even in his few interactions with them, he had picked up on the deep love they had for one another. They were everything a family was supposed to be, despite their unconventional make up.

“Okay, Spellman, I’ll give you being perhaps saner than Zelda, although I’ll deny it if she asks me. She’s rather formidable.” Sabrina laughed. “But I’m going to need to hear your arguments for surpassing Ambrose and Hilda on that scale.”

“I’m questioning your sanity if you think Ambrose is saner than I am,” she stated. “Look at how he dresses, Nick. That should be all the reason you need to see why I’m far more put together than him.”

“I’ll give you that,” Nick amended, eyes shining. “But you’re really going to have to work to convince me you’re saner than Hilda. That woman has fed me twice now and I’ll be hard pressed to think of her as anything less than a saint based on her cooking alone.”

“I guess I can’t beat Hilda,” Sabrina relented. “She did make me French toast before she left for the market after all. Although she is married to a man that dresses like a vampire daily, so we might be tied for most sane Spellman at least.”

“Hilda is married?” Nick wondered.

“To Cee,” Sabrina confirmed. “He owns Dr. Cerberus, the diner on Main Street. You haven’t been there yet, have you?”

“No,” Nick admitted. “I’ve walked by it a few times, but I haven’t made it in there yet. It looks – interesting.” The skeletons posed in various settings in the window had served as deterrent enough for him to avoid it.

“Don’t let the weirdness fool you,” Sabrina advised. “He’s got the best burgers and milkshakes in town. He and Hilda have been married for a few years now, but they have been together since I was in high school. Hilda helps him out at the diner sometimes.”

“I’ll give it a try soon,” Nick promised. He spied an empty park bench up ahead. “Let’s sit down, Spellman.” He led them to the bench, thinking it might do her some good if she was as sore as he suspected she was. He had no complaints when she sat close.

“You know all about my family,” Sabrina said. “Not to mention my failed engagement. Tell me something about you – ideally something as ridiculous or embarrassing as Aunt Zelda’s affair with Father Blackwood.”

This, Nick thought, was the part of continuing to spend time with Sabrina that made him want to shrink away from the idea. She would want to know more about him and he didn’t like talking about himself.

“I’m working on my Ph.D. in anthropology,” he said. “And I’m a bartender.” Sabrina’s eyes narrowed.

“I already know that.”

“Those are the most exciting things about me,” Nick insisted. Sabrina shook her head.

“I don’t believe that.”

“Well, you know my parents died,” he offered. “And that I eat like crap.”

“No brothers or sisters?” Sabrina asked, because she couldn’t help herself. She tried not to push, but still, she wanted to know more.

“I’m the only child,” he confirmed. “The only child of only children.” He bought himself some time by taking a sip of his coffee and bracing himself to share one more small fact about himself, something to hopefully pacify her for now. “It’s just my grandmother left. My dad’s mom.”

“What’s she like?” Sabrina’s soft, innocent smile that showed genuine interest made him want to talk to her about his family, at least a little.

“She’s tough,” shared. “She’s got a no-nonsense approach to life, for better or worse. She and my grandpa immigrated here from Greece when they were teenagers. That’s how they met – on a boat bound for New York. They got married not long after they arrived, settled in Chicago. They built a good life for themselves, but they had to fight for it. I think that’s why my dad always worked so hard – he grew up with parents who scrapped for everything they had.”

“That must be where you get your work ethic from,” Sabrina mused. Nick raised an eyebrow.

“What work ethic?” he wondered. “I’ve lived in my apartment for more than a month and I haven’t even bothered to unpack.”

“You’re in classes or studying all day,” she reminded him. “Then you bartend until late the early morning hours, wake up, and do it all over again. Maybe you haven’t unpacked, but you’re no slacker, Scratch.”

Her vote of confidence made him feel funny. Warm. He liked that she saw him that way – as a hard worker, dedicated to his studies, dependable. He wanted her to keep that opinion of him.

“I might have you tell my grandmother that the next time she starts in on me about what I have or haven’t done,” Nick said. Except he wasn’t so sure he wanted Sabrina talking to his grandmother. “She’s tough, but she loves me. She generally means well.”

“Is she still in Chicago?”

“She is,” Nick nodded. “Chicago proper, too. She’s quite proud of that. She has this pet peeve about people who say they’re ‘from Chicago’ but they’re really from a suburb outside of the city. She says they’re just trying to be someone they’re not.” That made Sabrina laugh a bit.

“So, does that make you from Chicago proper as well?” she asked.

“It does,” Nick confirmed. “I am also proud of that fact.”

“Cubs fan?” Sabrina questioned, pulling what little she knew about Chicago out of brain.

“For better or worse,” Nick nodded. “Blackhawks, too. Bulls. Bears. That last one is generally for worse.”

“I know the Bulls are a basketball team,” Sabrina said. “I’m clueless about the others.”

“Blackhawks are a hockey team, Bears are football. Trust me, Sabrina. It’s really really hard to be a Bears fan. Although the last couple of years haven’t been entirely awful.”

“I’m clearly a major sports fan,” Sabrina said seriously. Nick laughed.

“No sports for you?” Sabrina shook her head.

“I was on the dance team throughout college, the cheer team in high school, so I’ve been to my fair share of basketball and football games, but both the Academy and Greendale University aren’t exactly sports meccas.”

“Tell me about dancing,” Nick requested. Their sandwiches were gone, their coffees empty, but neither had any intention of leaving their bench. “How old were you when you started?”

“I’ve danced my whole life,” Sabrina shrugged. “I took my first ballet class when I was two and it was all I ever wanted to do from there. Ballet turned into tap, jazz, hip hop, lyrical, acro… If there was a style of dance, I learned it. I took gymnastics and tumbling, too, to help me onstage.” She smiled to herself. “I don’t have a lot of memories of my mom, but I remember she loved to watch me dance.” Her smile grew bigger. “I remember my dad joking that I was dancing on pointe before I could walk.”

“You’re a beautiful dancer,” Nick chanced.

“I used to compete,” Sabrina shared. “I know I’ve told you I haven’t traveled much, but the truth is, I’ve been all over the place, mainly the east coast but some other places around the country, too, to compete. I don’t really count those trips though. It was pretty much us showing up the day before the competition, competing, then coming right back home to get ready for school on Monday.”

“Why did you stop dancing?” Nick continued.

“I didn’t stop. You’ve seen me dance.”

“That was you stealing a few minutes in an unused studio,” he argued. “It sounds like you gave up something you love.”

“I didn’t give it up,” Sabrina pressed back. “I just – don’t have the time anymore.”

Nick decided to leave it there, for now.

“Well, I think you should dance constantly,” he said, not for the first time.

They stayed on that bench for another hour, until Sabrina could no longer ignore the headache that had crept back into existence.

“I’m driving you home,” Nick stated as they stood.

“No,” Sabrina shook her head. “You don’t have to do that…”

“Note that I didn’t ask,” Nick said. “You’ve got a headache and I happen to know you were in an accident two days ago. I bet your shoulder is throbbing too, isn’t it?” Sabrina said nothing. He was absolutely irritatingly correct. He took her trash, tossed it in a nearby can, and gallantly offered her his arm. “Now that that’s settled…”

The market had all but disappeared during their time seated on the bench. The last of the vendors were collapsing their tents and packing up their goods as Sabrina and Nick made their way back up Main Street. He drove her back to the mortuary and put the car in park.

“We keep ending up here,” Sabrina mused. “In your car, in my driveway.”

“Two of the three times has had to do with your tendency to walk places,” Nick replied. She smiled at him and he fully recognized that he was on a slippery slope when it came to the woman beside him. “If you’re feeling up to it, I’ll be behind the bar tonight. I don’t know that you should mix painkillers and alcohol, but I can mix up something non-alcoholic…”

“I’m supposed to meet my friend Theo,” she said with an apologetic smile. “Besides, you’ll be busy tonight. It’s a Saturday.”

“True,” Nick agreed. He wondered who this Theo person was. It was clearly a guy – was Sabrina going on a date? She had said ‘friend,’ but that didn’t mean anything… He gave his head a little shake he hoped she didn’t notice. “Raincheck then?”

“I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” she said. “Be it at Dorian’s or the coffee shop on campus.”

He decided if she was flirting with him, this Theo guy wasn’t serious.

“Thanks for the sandwich and coffee,” he said, using his best lopsided grin that usually worked on women. She smiled back at him, the smile that certainty worked on him.

“It was the least I could do after you took care of me the other night.” She bit her lip. She felt glued to his seat. The last thing she wanted to do was get out of his car. “And here you are, doing it again.”

That reminded him of why he had driven her home in the first place.

“Go inside, Spellman,” he said gently, “take something for that headache.” She smiled gratefully.

“My head is pounding,” she admitted. “I think I'll try to take a nap.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he said. She nodded.

“See you soon.”

Again, he sat and waited until she was safely inside before he backed out of the drive.

He thought he might be falling for Sabrina Spellman.

Even if falling was the last thing he wanted to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sparks everywhere. Twenty questions, so to speak, indeed. 
> 
> This chapter was fluffy filler material to firmly establish that connection. Sabrina, the open book. Nick... He's kind of like the first book in a series, isn't he? He gives you enough to get you hooked, then leaves you hanging so you go in search of the next book in the series... 
> 
> And Zelda. So scandalous. 
> 
> Maybe it's time for someone to ask someone on a real date though? Instead of these little non-date outings to bars and Farmer's Markets... 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this one!


	7. Everything Has Changed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're of age, pour yourself a drink and take a sip every time Nick thinks 'Sabrina Spellman.'

_And all my walls_  
_Stood tall painted blue_  
_But I'll take 'em down,_  
_Take 'em down and open up the door for you_

The bar was slammed.

Dorian had every available employee working, but it was the first home football game of the year and Greendale University students were out in full force to celebrate. The team had lost, and lost in exceptional fashion at that, but that didn’t seem to stop the revelry. According to Dorian, the team rarely won anyway. The real appeal of the game was the tailgates before and the party after.

Nick slung drinks in an easy rhythm. He liked being busy. He liked having a lot on his plate. Being busy kept him from letting his thoughts run wild. And tonight, being busy also helped him avoid Dorcas, not to mention more than one other woman that tried to get his attention for more than a drink. He cursed Sabrina Spellman for that, even though she could very well be on a date with this Theo character as he poured a vodka and cranberry, passed it off to its requester, and went to work on a martini. He could have easily had plans to go home with a warm body after his shift if it weren’t for Sabrina Spellman. Instead, he would be going home to an empty bed by way of a stop off to shower where he would spend some time with his hand, thinking of Sabrina Spellman and her plaid skirts and turtlenecks.

It didn’t actually make sense that he was turning down, or more accurately, avoiding, other women. He wasn’t dating Sabrina Spellman. He hadn’t even gone on a _date_ with Sabrina Spellman, despite the time they had spent together. Yet every time he even considered turning on the charm on any one of the women that approached him over the course of the night, Sabrina Spellman’s ruby red lips and black velvet headband popped into his mind and he stop himself. He shook the martini shaker in his hand with a little more force than was necessary, annoyed at the entire concept of Sabrina Spellman.

Sabrina Spellman who smelled like peaches and lavender.

Sabrina Spellman who was quick witted and whip smart and easy to talk to.

Sabrina Spellman who walked like she floated on air and danced in a way that was mesmerizing.

Sabrina Spellman who was likely incredibly flexible, thanks to all that dance and the gymnastics classes she mentioned which meant she would likely be a lot of fun in bed.

Sabrina Spellman who was probably on a date with some guy named Theo while he ignored perfectly willing women because his mind kept conjuring up images of her damned lips that tasted like the damned strawberries they were the same color as.

“Scratch, I’ll love you forever if you make me another one of those spicy numbers.” Ambrose Spellman sidled up to the bar, Prudence with him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“I can do that,” he answered. At least this particular Spellman wasn’t preventing him from getting laid that night. “Prudence? Dirty martini, two olives?”

“I adore you,” Prudence crowed. Nick chuckled and went to work on their drinks.

“I hear you spent your morning with my cousin,” Ambrose said casually.

Of course he had to bring up Sabrina Spellman.

“She wanted to buy me breakfast to thank me for helping her the other night,” Nick said, perfectly composed on the outside. He was as skilled at hiding his emotions as Sabrina Spellman was at spinning on her toes. “A completely unnecessary gesture, but she insisted.”

“I’m sure she did,” Prudence drawled. Nick decided to negotiate with the girl before him. She could at least help him with one of his current problems.

“Prudence, I’ll make this martini on the house if you get your sister to leave me alone.”

Prudence’s eyes danced. Ambrose leaned in closer, amusement plain on his face. Nick recognized the situation for what it was. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten himself into a sticky situation with a one-night stand.

“I don’t know,” Prudence drawled. “It could be fun to watch you fend off Dorcas while chasing after her arch nemesis.”

“You are Sabrina’s arch nemesis,” Ambrose corrected. “Although I’m not entirely sure why at this point.”

“True,” Prudence conceded with a point of pride. Nick kept his mask firmly in place at the mention of Sabrina. “I do like to watch chaos I didn't create, however, and I certainly wasn’t dumb enough to sleep with a girl who falls in love with every boy who looks her way.”

“No offense, Prudence, but as you just alluded to, Dorcas isn’t quite – stable,” Nick stated. “I’ve been rather blunt with her, but she just keeps popping up.”

“Bit like stubborn acne, really,” Ambrose mused. He grunted when Prudence’s elbow met his midsection. Nick grinned at their interaction. He had deduced that they had an open relationship on the outside, but he thought there might be something more there than a casual fling. Regardless, it was their business.

“I’ll talk to Dorcas,” Prudence relented. “But I think you accomplished the feat of getting her to leave you alone all on your own today. She saw you and Sabrina at the market this morning and she reported that the two of you looked quite couple-y.”

“It wasn’t a date,” Nick said automatically. But, deep down, he wondered.

_Was it?_

He and Sabrina kept finding themselves alone together, at bars and farmer’s markets, losing track of time and talking endlessly, their make out session in the driver’s seat of his car and, because he was ignoring the obvious, his affection towards her the night of her accident, notwithstanding. He hadn’t dated all that much, but he was fairly sure what they were doing could be called dates by outsiders. Dorcas certainly thought as much anyway. Which, he reasoned, he should be grateful for if it got her to move on to the next poor unsuspecting soul.

“Right,” Ambrose drawled as though he were reading Nick’s mind. “Not a date. Just a thank you gesture.”

Nick ignored the thick sarcasm from Ambrose, put Prudence’s martini in front of her, and went to work on Ambrose’s drink, aware that he needed to pick up the pace a bit as the crowd grew. Still, he liked talking to his newfound friends.

“Definitely not a date,” he said. But, he thought, he could maybe fish for some information. Not that he cared. He was just – curious. “Besides, she’s out with some guy named Theo tonight.”

Prudence snorted into her martini. Ambrose chortled. Nick raised an eyebrow as he added Benedictine to Ambrose’s drink.

“As much as I would like to allow you to continue to believe Sabrina is on a date with ‘some guy named Theo’ for my own amusement, I can’t do that to Theo,” Ambrose shook his head. “I have too much respect for him. Theo, my dear Nicholas, is one of Sabrina’s oldest friends. And absolutely not a threat to you, should you be interested in my cousin.”

Nick said nothing. He was certainly interested in Sabrina. He couldn’t deny that. But she wasn’t the one-night stand kind of a girl and he wasn’t the relationship kind of a guy. Things were already threatening to get complicated given how often she was infiltrating his thoughts.

“Theo has a boyfriend,” Prudence continued, picking up where Ambrose left off. “Robin. He’s a bit of an odd duck, but he’s nice enough.”

“You just say he’s odd because he likes to dye his hair green, but you haven’t a lot of room to talk, do you?” Ambrose wondered, referencing Prudence’s preferred shade of blonde. She glared at him. Ambrose gave his full attention back to Nick, watching as the bartender poured his freshly mixed drink. “Theo used to be Suzy. He became Theo when they were sophomores in high school.”

“Oh,” Nick said lamely. It was new for him, the feeling of first jealousy and then relief that he had nothing to worry about – at least when it came to this Theo person. But he had seen the eyes on her at the bar whenever she was there. Theo wasn’t a threat, but that didn’t mean someone else wouldn’t be.

“Theo and Robin travel a lot,” Ambrose continued. “They pop into Greendale for a week or two before they set off again. They’re just back from an extended trek across Asia and they’re off to South America next, so they’re here to say hello to Theo’s dad and check in with their friends.”

“Your drink,” Nick said by way of reply, working hard not to reveal his relief.

“A saint, truly,” Ambrose replied. He took a sip. “Perfection.” He turned to Prudence. “Shall we return to our table?”

“Right behind you,” Prudence said. Ambrose kissed her cheek and wandered away. Prudence turned her attention to Nick who was already taking a new drink order. She spied a pen behind the bar and reached for it, along with a cocktail napkin. She checked something on her phone and jotted it down on the napkin. “Nicholas?”

“Another martini already?” he teased as he worked.

“Soon, but not quite.” She slid the napkin across the counter. “For you. I believe it’s something you somehow still don’t have.” She winked at him as she slipped from the stool and followed Ambrose. Nick picked up the napkin and flipped it over.

Sabrina Spellman’s phone number.

He wondered how Prudence knew he didn’t have it – and had been mentally kicking himself for it all evening. He slipped it in his back pocket.

He would use it later.

Maybe.

Probably.

He thought of her red lips again.

Most likely.

Just to check on her, of course.

She had hit her head, after all, and had a headache when he dropped her off at home earlier.

He would use it to check on her.

It was the polite thing to do.

* * *

Sabrina idled through the produce department, adding things to her cart and checking them off of her very long list. She was searching for purple sweet potatoes – of course purple, because regular sweet potatoes would be too easy for Hilda – when a familiar voice said her name.

“Sabrina?”

She put her best smile on and turned.

“Harvey. Hi.”

He stood a few feet away, a bag of potatoes in one hand, a basket containing things like Easy Mac and Ramen in the other.

“What are you doing here?” he wondered.

“Picking up a few things for Hilda.” She cringed inwardly. This is what things had come to between them. Painfully awkward small talk. What else would she be doing in a grocery store aside from grocery shopping? “Or more than a few things, judging by the length of her list.”

“Me, too,” Harvey nodded. “Picking up things, I mean. Not for Hilda, obviously. Just for – me.”

Painful. So very painful.

“How have you been?” Sabrina asked, trying to salvage the conversation. She was suddenly hyper aware that it was Sunday and they were supposed to be getting married on Saturday. She had been actively working to not think about how they were six days away from their once wedding day until she saw him.

“Fine,” Harvey shrugged. “You?”

“I’ve been okay enough,” Sabrina nodded.

“I heard you had an accident a few nights ago. Are you okay?”

“Just a bump on the head and a sore shoulder,” she assured him. She assumed he heard the news from Roz or perhaps Theo, but news traveled fast in Greendale. “My car, however, did not make it. I’m officially in the market for a new one.”

“You needed a new one,” Harvey mused. He himself still drove the old truck he had in high school.

“Well, the deer made sure that’s happening.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” she said with a kind smile. She decided it was time to move on. In many ways. “Good seeing you, Harvey.” She made to push her cart away, deciding she would come back to produce for what she hadn’t yet found on Hilda’s extensive and unique list in an effort to put some distance between her and Harvey and their painful small talk.

“Sabrina?”

She paused for a moment, closed her eyes, and blew out a breath. She turned back to Harvey with a neutral expression and a raised eyebrow. He looked uncomfortable. She hoped she at least covered her uncomfortableness up better than he did.

“Can I ask...” he trailed off.

“Ask what?” she prompted. Harvey looked resigned, even if he grew more uneasy before her very eyes.

“Are you – seeing anyone?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Why?”

“It’s just… Well…” He fumbled for words. Sabrina bit the inside of her mouth to keep from replying in an unkind manner. This was one of the things that annoyed her the most about Harvey. He never came right out with it when something was on his mind. He hemmed and hawed and went way around the metaphorical bush before he ever actually got to his point while she herself was more of a direct to the heart of the matter kind of person. She didn’t have the patience for Harvey’s roundabout way of asking questions. “I saw you at the farmer’s market on Saturday. You were with that bartender from Dorian’s. The new one, I mean. You looked – happy.”

“His name is Nick,” Sabrina told him. “He drove up on my car after the accident, called the police, stayed with me, then drove me home. I bought him breakfast as a thank you.”

She hated that she felt the need to explain.

“It looked like more than a gratitude breakfast.”

Sabrina narrowed her eyes a bit, picking up on the undertone in Harvey’s comment.

“Are you – jealous?”

“No,” Harvey said too quickly for it to be true. “I just… I was curious…”

“You’re dating my best friend,” she reminded him. “I know I ended our engagement and that I broke your heart, but we both deserve to be happy. I gave you my blessing to ask Roz out. She’s really happy with you…”

“I’m happy with her,” Harvey broke in. Sabrina wished it didn’t sting as much as it did, but she understood. Harvey was trying to defend himself for inquiring about her relationship status while enjoying his own newly minted relationship. He was, at least, smart enough to realize he had crossed some sort of line.

“Good,” she approved. “But I get to move on too, Harvey. I wasn’t on a date with Nick, but even if I were, you don’t have a right to be jealous.”

“I have a little bit of a right,” Harvey argued. “I was supposed to marry you this Saturday.”

Sabrina considered him. She decided to ask the question that had haunted her for a while now.

“Harvey, did you really want to marry me?” she wondered. “Or did you think that was the next thing on the list of things that you were supposed to do, so you asked me as a means of checking off some box on an invisible list you had in your head?”

Harvey sighed. Right there, in the middle of Greendale’s only grocery store, he admitted a hard truth that he had come to realize over the last few months without Sabrina.

“I didn’t want to marry you.”

Sabrina felt a relief she didn’t expect at his confession.

“I loved you,” Harvey continued. “I still do. A part of me always will. But I’ve realized I didn’t want to marry you. Not really. As you put it, it just felt like the next logical thing to do. I’m sorry if that hurts you, but it’s the truth.”

“I’ll always love you too, Harvey,” she assured him. “But you and I aren’t meant to be. This, us going our separate ways, is the right thing.”

“It is,” he agreed. “It took me a while to get there, but you’re right. Us going our separate ways is the right thing. For both of us.”

She smiled at him, wondering at the fact that somehow, they had both found closure in the middle of the produce section, awkward small talk and all.

“You hurt Roz, I will end you,” she promised him, joking but not entirely.

“Deal,” he agreed with a ghost of a smile. “I should get going.” He shrugged a bit. “Roz is coming over for dinner.”

It was a little odd for Sabrina to think of Roz in the apartment she shared with Harvey, but it was the way things were now. She hoped he wasn’t feeding her the microwavable macaroni and cheese he had in his basket.

“I’ll see you around,” she said, aware that she and Harvey were still a long way away from hanging out as friends. She was hopeful they would be able to one day, especially if he continued to date Roz, but she just didn’t see it happening for a long time to come.

They parted ways. When she was down to just a few items on her list, she dug her phone out of her bag. She had gone grocery shopping for Hilda enough over the years to know there were always last minute adds. Teaching Hilda to text had been one of her and Ambrose’s greatest accomplishments as teenagers as they were no longer having to answer her phone calls every few minutes while trying to remember what else she needed. Sure enough, Hilda had sent additional items.

_Cinnamon sticks  
Green onions  
Rice noodles  
Black garlic_

“Because regular garlic would be too easy,” Sabrina muttered, a bit annoyed that she had to go back to the produce for a third time this trip. She had another text, however, this one from a number she didn’t recognize. She opened it.

_Hi, Sabrina. It’s Nick. I’m not working tonight… Thought I might go to that Dr. Cerberus place. Care to join me?_

Something inside her warmed. She liked Nick. She had inadvertently talked about him enough while she was with Theo the night before that he inquired as to who Nick was and what her intentions were. She thought the real question was what _Nick’s_ intentions were. She felt pretty confident that he was attracted to her, but he seemed so hesitant, a little closed off. She couldn’t quite figure him out, even as she tried to.

It seemed like right now, at least, his intentions were to have dinner with her. She typed back.

_I’m at the grocery store getting a few things for Hilda. Nearly done. I could meet you in, say, an hour?_

That would give her enough time to finish up at the store, help Hilda put things away, and change into something a little more attractive than the leggings and oversized sweatshirt she was currently wearing.

The bubbles that told her he was texting back appeared almost right away.

_Perfect. See you there._

Sabrina dropped her phone back into her bag and set off to find the rest of Hilda’s grocery list with a new sense of purpose. If she couldn’t find black garlic within the next five minutes, Hilda was going to have to make due with regular old garlic. She didn’t have time to search the store for special garlic.

She had a – was it a date? – with Nicholas Scratch.

* * *

Nick and Sabrina walked down Main Street once again, but this time, night had fallen. The street was relatively quiet and lit by streetlamps. The cool fall air nipped at their cheeks, and the windowfronts were decorated with pumpkins and leaves, others with bats and cobwebs. Their shoulders brushed against one another as they walked. So did their hands.

He had been waiting for her outside the diner, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. She had thought he looked a bit nervous, but he had smiled at her and her own swarm of nervous butterflies had fluttered away. She had hugged him in greeting, and then escorted him inside where she had no choice but to introduce him to Cee. Cee, of course, already knew who he was, thanks to Hilda, but had pretended to be none the wiser.

Sabrina had led him to her favorite booth where they both ordered a burger and fries and a milkshake, then proceeded to talk as though they hadn’t spent the last two times they had been together doing the same thing. Sabrina wondered at the fact that they seemed to never run out of things to say to one another. But she had noted that Nick still shied away from talking too much about himself. She would share stories about her childhood, her life. He stuck to the present, to school, the bar, maybe a mention of his grandmother. It made her curious about him, but she reminded herself it could be that he was simply more private than her and to not push so hard like she was prone to do.

“Tell me, Spellman, did you walk or drive this time?” he asked as they walked.

“I drove,” Sabrina answered. “Hilda let me borrow her car.” She was grateful. It was Hilda’s neat sedan or the hearse. “No need for a ride home.”

“You’re going to send me back to my lonesome apartment early then,” he teased. “Since my services as a chauffeur are not currently needed.”

“Maybe your apartment wouldn’t be so lonely if you unpacked,” Sabrina countered. “You know, if you took your things out of boxes, put them where they belong, made it feel like you live there…” Nick chuckled at her wit. She stopped next to a simple blue sedan parked along the curb just below his apartment. “This is me.”

“Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?” Nick asked. He didn’t want to part ways just yet. Being around her felt a lot like the first rays of sunshine after several days of heavy rain. Even on a Sunday evening when night had fallen, the temperature had dropped, and most of Greendale had disappeared indoors to prepare for the week ahead. His only regret was that it had taken him almost a full day to work up the nerve to text her.

“Maybe,” Sabrina ventured. She still wasn’t sure if this was a date. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Monday,” he ventured, not really sure where he was going with his words. They were just coming out of him at this point. “It’s not my Monday to work, but maybe I’ll see you in the dance studio?”

“Maybe,” Sabrina said again.

At some point, Nick had gotten closer. Her entire body buzzed at the idea that he could be even closer, could repeat some of what had happened in the front seat of his car. Maybe more. It was palpable, her draw to him, the attraction she felt. She was sure he felt it too. He had to, the way he was looking at her. He reached out a hand and brushed his fingertips along her cheek. She was utterly beautiful. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of her all night. He decided to just be honest, for better or worse.

“What I really want is to take you upstairs with me,” he admitted. His hand trailed down her neck, over her shoulder, along her arm. Goosebumps erupted on her skin, despite her long sleeves. “I don’t do that, Sabrina, take girls home to my place. I go home with them, but I don’t take them to my place. Ever.”

“Then why would you take me?” she breathed, ignoring his reference to other girls for her own sanity. She would revisit that thought later. She was too consumed with whatever was happening right now to worry about that particular comment.

“Because you’re different.”

“Different how?” she questioned.

“Just – different.” His fingers tangled with hers and he leaned in. “You’re not like them.”

His lips closed over hers then and she was gone. She pulled him to her, leaning into how his larger body encompassed hers. He pressed her against the car, cradling his face in his hands as he kissed her hard, the rest of his body flush against hers. He was hyper aware of her small hands trailing down his chest, leaving a path of fire in their wake.

It had been brewing all night, the intensity of whatever was between them. It was in the way their hands had brushed against one another throughout dinner as though magnets existed in their fingertips that drew them towards one another. It was in the way Nick had hugged her just a hair too long during their greeting outside of Cee’s, how she had reached across the table to wipe a spot of ketchup away from his lip. It was in how he had stood a little closer than necessary to show her a book of magic tricks he had found in the book section of the odd little diner, how she had wrapped her hand around his bicep and led him outside when she noted the pointed look from Cee that reminded her he closed early on Sundays.

It was certainly in the way he was kissing her right now.

“Nick,” she sighed when he pulled away to breathe. He kissed her again. One arm had wrapped around her waist at some point. The other had slipped under the hem of her shirt and caressed the skin there. One of her hands had wrapped itself around the lapel of his jacket. The other had taken up residence at the back of his neck where she played with his curls with her fingertips.

“You’re going to be my undoing, Spellman,” he breathed when he pulled away again, his mind made up. “But I’m going to put you in this car and send you home.”

“That’s the second time you’ve put the brakes on, Scratch.” She was still in his arms. His hard body was still pressed against her. He showed no signs of letting her go anywhere, and she showed no signs of leaving. “I’m questioning your reputation as a Lothario.”

“I told you.” Nick kissed her again, short and sweet. “You’re different.”

Sabrina had a lot of questions, but she let them go. She was too busy being consumed by how solid Nick felt against her, how safe she felt in his embrace, how his kisses made her feel things she couldn’t identify. It was lust. Passion. Things she hadn’t felt in a long time. Things she wanted more of. She pulled him into another kiss.

“Thank you for dinner,” she said when they parted again. He had insisted on paying had managed to give Cee his credit card even as she protested. Cee had taken it with a chuckle and immediately reported back to Hilda via text that the boy had paid for dinner. With Sabrina smiling up at him, Nick recognized he didn’t stand a chance.

“How about we do it again?” he proposed. “As an actual date this time.”

Sabrina’s bright smile told him he had absolutely done the right thing by ignoring that voice that nagged him, told him to cut and run now, while he still could.

“I’d like that.” Still, she wondered what tonight had been, what Saturday had been. She reasoned it didn’t matter. Nick had put definite parameters around their next outing. “How about Wednesday?”

“I have the night off,” Nick confirmed. “We’ll make plans.” He kissed her again. Tonight hadn’t been a date, not officially, but it sure felt like one to him. “Text me when you get home?”

“I will.” Another kiss. “How did you get my number anyway?” She had realized she didn’t have his phone number after her accident and was trying to figure out a way to casually ask for it. It had been a pleasant surprise to see his number appear on her screen a few hours earlier.

“Prudence,” Nick admitted. “I might have thought you were on a date with that Theo guy…” Sabrina laughed heartily.

“Nick…”

“I know, I know,” he cut her off, looking a bit embarrassed. “Prudence and Ambrose filled me in.” It warmed Sabrina’s insides to find out that Nick had been jealous, or at least insecure, when he thought she was out with someone else. It further bolstered her belief that he wasn’t quite the Lothario he wanted people to believe he was. He used the arm around her waist to pull her away from the car enough to use his free hand to open the driver’s side door for her. “Get in this car before I break any more of my rules, Spellman.”

“What rules?” Sabrina wondered.

“It’s a long list,” he said. “But trust me, you have already thrown half of them out the window.” He kissed her again, then released her. She gave him a soft smile before she got into the car. He leaned in to kiss her one last time. “Drive safe.”

“I’ll text you when I get home,” she said. “Have a good night, Nick.”

“It’s already been a good night,” he assured her. He shut her door and stepped back onto the sidewalk. She gave him a little wave that he returned before she pulled away. He blew out a deep breath.

“I’m fucked,” he declared to the empty sidewalk. There was no point in denying it any longer. Every personal boundary he had ever put in place for himself was being breeched by one Sabrina Spellman. “Absolutely fucked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Nick spiraling a bit as he worked and thought of Sabrina Spellman was a lot of fun. He was completely annoyed, completely obsessed, and really hopeful that she wasn't really into that Theo guy... 
> 
> A nice little produce section closure moment for Harvey and Sabrina before Nick finally maned up and sent a text. And then asked her on a real date - because you know, buying her dinner at Cee's and then basically mauling her on the sidewalk was obviously not a date... 
> 
> And is anyone surprised Sabrina is breaking his rules? 
> 
> Next update - date night... Finally... 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this one!


	8. Jump Then Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... glossing right past this week's bad news because I'm choosing to live in denial... Date night with a little dancing?

_I had time to think it all over and all I can say is come closer,_   
_Take a deep breath and jump then fall into me_

Nick stared at his phone, well aware of what he needed to do, but absolutely against doing it. The number on the screen taunted him, daring him to tap the call button. He exhaled a breath and pressed his finger to the green circle. He prayed for voicemail.

Of course he answered.

“Michael Pruitt,” came a distracted male voice.

“Michael? It’s Nick.

There was a beat of surprised silence.

“Nick. It's good to hear from you,” Michael replied. “Unexpected, but good all the same. How are you?”

“Good, busy,” he answered. He rushed on, eager to get this over with. “Sorry it took me a while to reply to your email.”

“I’ve been emailing and calling for weeks,” Michael reminded him. Nick said nothing. He didn’t have much in the way of a defense. Michael knew he was avoiding him. “All the same, you’re on the phone now and if I know you, you’re not going to give me much time.”

“I’m between classes,” Nick confirmed. He technically had a couple of hours before class, but Michael didn’t need to know that.

“I’ll get right to the point then.” Michael blew out a breath. “Nick, you need to sign these papers. I don’t understand what the hesitation is…”

“It’s complicated,” Nick interrupted. “I’m not sure I want to sign.”

“Why wouldn’t you sign?” Michael pondered. “Nicholas, all these papers mean is that you have full control of your parents’ assets…”

“And if I don’t sign them?”

“You know what happens if you don’t sign them.”

“Everything goes to a trust I can’t touch,” Nick stated. “And just sits there.”

“And just sits there,” Michael confirmed. “These are your parents’ assets, Nick. They worked hard for what they left you. They wanted this for you...”

“My parents wanted a lot of things for me,” Nick cut him off again. “I let them down repeatedly.”

“I disagree,” Michael said matter-of-factly. “I knew your parents well. We were friends for a long time. Your dad and I…”

“Went to college together, I know,” Nick cut him off yet again. He was losing patience with this conversation already. “I’ve heard all of this before.”

“Let’s try another tactic then,” Michael said. “I’m your godfather…”

“How much longer do I have to decide?” Nick interrupted once more. He had heard the ‘I’m your godfather and I care about you’ bit before too. His patience quickly thinning for no real reason other than the fact that he didn’t want to talk about any of this.

“You’ve got six weeks.

“Six weeks,” Nick repeated. “Okay.”

“Nick, what can I do for you? How can I help you make the right choice?”

“You think the right choice is to sign those papers,” Nick reminded him. “I don’t know if that’s the right choice for me.”

“I understand that you feel guilty, Nicholas…”

“That’s not…”

“It is,” Michael cut him off this time. “And I understand that, I do. But you’re their only child. You know how much those two people loved you, Nick. They wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”

“I can take care of myself,” Nick muttered. Even if he could admit he was doing a terrible job of it. “I’ve got to go, Michael. I’ll think about things.”

“Always thinking about things,” Michael sighed. “Fine, Nicholas. But I’m not going to let this go.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

He ended the call and sat back in his chair with a sigh. A tension headache had settled in and the last thing he wanted to do was crack open a book and study the way he had planned. Studying was the whole reason he had found a quiet corner of the anthropology building ahead of class. Now, he wished he would have skipped studying and the phone call and slept in. He rubbed the space between his eyes. He was contemplating his next move when his phone lit up.

_I might be in the studio… If you’re free…_

Sabrina had attached a video of her spinning elegantly on one leg. He grinned to himself and quickly gathered his things. He took the stairs two at a time, hurrying a bit more than was necessary past the few students who lingered in the hallways.

At the studio, he stopped at the door and peeked in. Sure enough, she was there. He watched for a few moments as she took a step forward and fearlessly threw her body through the air in a front aerial. Nick’s breath caught until she landed neatly and slid into a split. He opened the door and slipped inside. Sabrina saw him in the mirror and spun to face him. She broke into a big smile and his day was suddenly better. She gracefully got to her feet, took a few steps towards the mirrored wall, and snagged a remote lying nearby. She lowered the volume on the string piece playing over the speakers.

“I see you got my message.”

“You just took my breath away,” he replied. “Literally. I held my breath when you flipped through the air like that.”

“You sound like Hilda,” Sabrina teased as he approached her. “She always held her breath when I had an aerial or any sort of tumbling or gymnastics in my dances.”

“Should you be dancing like that?” Nick questioned. He had reached her now. His hands moved on their own accord and settled on her waist. She was in leggings again, but today she wore a cropped dark green sports bra, giving him a chance to put skin on skin. His thumbs moved up and down over her bare sides. “Your accident wasn’t even a week ago.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. Her own arms looped around his neck. His attention was drawn to the bruise on her shoulder. He moved a hand to run his fingertips over it.

“That doesn’t look fine.” It was deep and purple and had to be painful.

“It feels better if I move it,” she said. “And notice I did an aerial. No shoulder involved.” Nick just shook his head. There was no point in arguing.

“You’re beautiful when you dance, Spellman.” He smiled almost bashfully. “You’re beautiful all the time, though.” He wondered what in the hell had taken over his mouth. He didn’t say things like that, even when he was actively trying to get a girl into bed.

“Thank you.” His arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her in. “I figured you would be holed up with a research journal somewhere, Scratch.”

“That was my plan.” He rested his forehead against hers. He had given up on denying that he wasn’t dangerously attracted to her. “Someone interrupted me.”

“I’d say I’m sorry, but it’s not nice to lie.”

Their lips met, right there in the middle of the dance studio. Sabrina had a fleeting thought about how this was one of her teenage fantasies come true. She had always wanted to be kissed in the middle of a dance studio like in those cheesy teen romantic comedies she and Roz had loved. Harvey had never spent much time around the studio, showing up out of obligation for recitals and competitions, but never longer than it took than to watch her perform. It wasn’t his scene. Nick, however, seemed to be developing a habit of interrupting her limited time in the studio.

“You are a welcomed distraction, Spellman,” he said when he pulled away.

Sabrina considered him. She had picked up that something was a little off with him when he walked in. Something felt heavy around his shoulders, even if he was actively trying to hide it.

“You okay, Scratch?” she wondered. “You seem a little – off.”

Nick wondered at the fact that she could sense his melancholy mood as he worked to disguise it. He was used to hiding his emotions. He was used to hiding a lot of things, considered himself good at it, even. At least until the blonde ballerina in his arms came along. He hadn’t been lying when he told Sabrina she was breaking all of his rules.

“It’s been a long morning,” he said by way of explanation. “I’ve got class this afternoon and then I work tonight. I’ve got a headache on top of it.”

“Want some Tylenol?” Sabrina offered, her hands trailing down his chest. “I’ve got some in my bag.”

“I’d love some Tylenol,” Nick agreed. Sabrina released him and he followed her to where both a school bag and a gym bag was stashed in a corner. She found the bottle, shook out two, and offered him the pills and her water bottle.

“You’re a saint, Spellman.” He downed the pills and passed her water back. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She put the water bottle down and leaned against the barre, her elbows resting on it, her back to the mirror. “A lot on your plate?”

“Something like that,” he agreed. “I’ve got a paper due on Monday, a shit ton of tests to grade for the class I TA, and that’s just the immediate need to dos. Don’t ask about what’s due past Monday. It catches up with me sometimes, you know?”

It was the most honest he had been with anyone outside of his therapist in ages.

“I have an exam in a couple of hours,” she admitted. “And a paper due on Thursday, as in two days from now, that I haven’t even started. And yet I’m in here, dancing.”

“As you should be,” Nick approved. “I told Dorian I’m absolutely not working this weekend. I’ll work tonight and Thursday night, but I’ve got to have a few uninterrupted days to focus on school.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” Sabrina replied. “You go to class, study, TA, bartend…”

“I like to be busy.” He moved so he was in front of her. “But I’m looking forward to spending tomorrow night with you.” He trapped her between him and the ballet barre, his hands wrapping around the barre on either side of her. Now was as good of a time as any to discuss their date plans. “I thought we could go to that Italian place…”

“We could,” Sabrina ventured. A hand came away from the barre to trail down his chest again. “Or, I could come over, cook dinner…”

“You can cook?” Nick asked curiously.

“Someone in the house had to learn,” she shrugged her non-bruised shoulder. “Hilda failed with Zelda – or rather, Zelda didn’t care to learn – and Ambrose failed dramatically, so I was the only one left for her to teach. I’m no Hilda, so don’t get your hopes up too high, but I can hold my own.”

“Promise not to make fun of my still not unpacked apartment?” Nick asked.

“I can try,” Sabrina teased. Nick leaned in and kissed her.

“I’ll let you come over then,” he agreed. Sabrina remembered something then. She raised an eyebrow.

“You sure?” she asked. “You’ve told me a couple of times now that you don’t let girls in your apartment.”

“I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you again – you’re different.”

He kissed her again to avoid her questioning why she was different. He himself didn’t know yet, or if he did, he was choosing to ignore it. She looped her fingers in his belt loops and pulled him into her.

“Making out in the middle of a dance studio probably isn’t appropriate,” he breathed.

“I don’t care,” she replied, breathy herself.

“Good.”

He kept her there, between him and the barre, enjoying how she fit against him. There was something endearing about how petite she was, how dainty and graceful and yet still strong she was. He felt a bit like a brute admitting it, but she made him feel more like a man, like a protector. He had never felt like that before. He thought he might like it.

“Spellman,” he sighed when he pulled away. “I really should go study.”

“Perhaps you should.” Her eyes sparkled. “But I think you should dance with me first.”

“Oh no…” She ducked under his arm and out of his embrace. “Sabrina, no. I don’t dance.” She ignored him, going to the music station to change the song. “I’m going to get going… Find a place to study…”

“You can do that,” Sabrina agreed. “But you’re going to dance with me first.”

“I told you, I don’t dance…”

A song with a heavy beat filled the speakers. She bumped up the volume a few notches, then turned to him. He was backing away, but his eyes were on her. She knew she had his full attention. She took a couple of steps, then easily spun into a series of pirouettes. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she danced her way to him.

“Sabrina…” His warning had no weight behind it. She just smiled and took his hand, raised it high, and spun underneath him. He tried not to smile. “You’re going to be sorely disappointed if you’re waiting on me to break into any of these fancy moves of yours.”

“Just move your hips,” she encouraged as her other hand fell on his shoulder. “Listen to the beat and move.”

“I really can’t…”

She pecked his lips to shut him up, and then her hands were on his hips. He instinctively put his hands on her hips in turn.

“Like this…” She tried to move his hips for him. He tried to resist her, but the next thing he knew, he was dancing with her, or at least trying to, mostly on rhythm, intoxicated by her. She was all smiles and whatever he was doing suddenly seemed worth it. He took her hand and spun her again. Her laughter blended in with the music.

When the song came to a close, he pulled her in and kissed her one more time.

“There’s another rule of mine broken,” he declared. She laughed again. “You’re definitely the better dancer, however.”

“Oh, I won’t dispute that,” Sabrina agreed. Nick laughed again.

“I really should go study,” he said begrudgingly.

“And I should go to the locker room to shower and change before my exam,” she replied. “See you tomorrow?”

“Unless you come to the bar tonight,” Nick hinted. Sabrina shook her head.

“I’m going to buy a car after class,” she told him. “I’m kind of looking forward to watching Zelda negotiate.”

“I’d guess you’ll be in good hands, then.”

“She will be in her element – bossing someone around. And once that’s done, I’m holing up in my room and studying tonight. That way I won’t feel obligated to rush off tomorrow night.”

“So you’re saying if you do rush it off, I’ve blown it.”

“Well, yes,” Sabrina quipped. Nick laughed again, his headache nearly forgotten.

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” he promised. He waited for her to gather her things and walked with her down the hall to the locker room door. He leaned in and kissed her one more time before he disappeared down the hall with a promise to text her later.

“Sabrina and Nicholas, kissing in a tree…”

Sabrina whirled around to glare at Ambrose.

“It’s ‘sitting in a tree’ and you’re an idiot,” she informed him.

“No matter, you’re the one with a crush,” he taunted. “Tell me, cousin, is he a good kisser? He looks like he would be…”

“I hate you,” Sabrina stated. She made to push through the door.

“Answer the question!” Ambrose called after her. Sabrina paused in the doorway and looked over her shoulder.

“No,” she informed Ambrose. “He’s not a good kisser.” She smirked. “He’s far better than good.”

She disappeared into the locker room, leaving Ambrose howling with laughter in hallway. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips swollen.

She looked happy.

For the first time in months, she liked what she saw in the mirror.

* * *

Sabrina tapped on the faded red door of Nick’s apartment above a sewing show she had frequented with Hilda since she was small. She listened as Nick’s footsteps approached the door on the other side. A moment later, it opened.

“Hey,” he greeted with his lopsided smile.

“Hey,” Sabrina replied with a smile of her own. Nick opened the door wider.

“Come in.” He reached for one of the two reusable grocery bags she carried as she passed him. “Did you bring the grocery store with you?”

“Given that you said your apartment was still mostly in boxes, I thought I would be safe rather than sorry,” she replied. She allowed Nick to lead the way to his small galley kitchen. There wasn’t a lot of counter space, but she could work with it – she had gotten used to lack of counter space when she lived with Harvey in an apartment not all that far from here.

As she placed her bag on the counter, she took a moment to look around. The apartment was small and efficient, the furniture worn and dated but comfortable looking. She imagined the place had come furnished. Nick had stacked boxes several high along the far wall where a bookshelf also stood. She wasn’t surprised to find it filled with books. She could tell from where she stood that they were Nick’s books – big, thick text and reference books, one of the few things he had unpacked. The bedroom was just off the side, a bathroom across from it. The place felt like Nick.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Nick said, the words coming out of him of their own accord. He caught her hand and turned her to him. “How’s the new car?”

“An upgrade,” Sabrina declared. “I didn’t realize how dated my old car was until I bought a new one.” Nick tugged her hand to bring her closer to him. “It’s got seat warmers.”

“Those are a game changer.” He kissed her then, short and sweet. He couldn’t get enough of her. “What are you making, Spellman?” he asked when he pulled away.

“Chicken piccata,” she answered, a little dazed from the way he had swooped in and surprised her with a kiss. He seemed to do that a lot. “I cheated a little, though. I’ve got half of a cake Hilda baked yesterday for dessert.”

“I’m not going to be upset about that,” Nick said seriously, making Sabrina laugh. “It’s like the best of both worlds.”

She set to work in his kitchen, him hovering and helping as he could. She poured them each a glass of wine, but didn’t notice that Nick didn’t touch his, sipping instead from a bottle of water and expertly tucking the glass out of sight. When she disappeared into the bathroom, he took full advantage to pour most of it out, purposefully leaving just enough to look like he had drunk it. They ate at his small bar, then had dessert on his couch. Nick took their empty plates to the kitchen.

“Thank you for dinner,” he told her as he settled next to her upon his return. He draped his arm over her shoulders. “That truly was delicious.”

“Like I said, I’m no Hilda, but I can hold my own.”

“You very much can.” She settled into his embrace, content to stay put for the foreseeable future. “I forgot to ask – how did your exam go yesterday?”

“Could have gone better, could have gone worse,” Sabrina shrugged. “I’m not too worried about it.” Nick picked up on her nonchalant attitude. He decided to do some digging to satisfy his own curiosity about Sabrina.

“What made you want to be a lawyer, Spellman? Some incredible injustice? A desire to throw the bad guy into jail?”

He was mildly surprised when Sabrina didn’t reply right away. When she had asked me why he wanted to be an anthropologist, he had more or less embarrassed himself by waxing poetically about his love of the subject. She, however, took time forming a response.

“I’ve always been a little self-righteous,” she admitted. “It got me in trouble more than once in school. Not so much in college, but at the Academy? Literally all the time.”

“You wanted healthier choices in the cafeteria?” Nick guessed. “Less homework on the weekends?”

“More like female sports teams – the dance and cheer teams included – to receive equal funding to male sports and a rather passionate stand against bullying. Both of those happened to be during Blackwood’s brief reign. Although let it be known that Zelda encouraged my behavior when it was against Blackwood, but when she’s in charge? I was, a direct and frequently used quote, ‘out of line.’”

Nick chuckled. He had only met Zelda a couple of times, but he could see her cheering Sabrina on when she was going against the status quo, so long as she herself wasn’t the one setting it.

“I’ve basically argued my whole life,” Sabrina continued. “Mostly with Ambrose and Zelda, occasionally with Hilda, often with Prudence and her sisters. Everyone joked that I would grow up to be a lawyer, so I guess I just – did.”

Again, Nick sensed there was more.

“Can I ask another question without you getting mad at me?”

“Go on,” Sabrina hedged.

“Do you actually want to be a lawyer?”

She sat up and looked at him. He was sure he had, in fact, made her mad.

“No one has ever asked me that,” she said after a beat.

“Have you at least asked yourself that?” Nick asked.

“I’ve been in nearly two and a half years of law school,” she reminded him. “I’m nearly done. It’s a little too late to ask questions, isn’t it?”

“My mom dropped out of med school with only a semester to go because she wanted to study history,” Nick shrugged. “So call me crazy, but I’d say no.” Sabrina latched onto the small detail about his mother. She continued to note how little Nick shared about his past. Every piece he gave her felt like a coin to add to her small but growing collection. She settled back into his embrace.

“What would I do besides be a lawyer at this point?” she wondered out loud. She wouldn’t admit it to Nick, but she had pondered that same question in quiet moments over the last year – did she really want to be a lawyer?

“Dance,” Nick said easily. “You look happy when you dance.” He tugged her hair playfully. “You scowl a lot when you’re studying those law books.”

“I don’t scowl,” she protested.

“You do,” Nick said. “But it’s kind of cute.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes playfully. She liked this side of him, when he was playful and affectionate. She was sure there was more to him, several layers he hadn’t revealed yet. But she hoped he would continue to share them with her, trust her enough to pull them back one by one.

“Because you don’t scowl when you’re studying.”

“I’m pensive when I study,” Nick corrected. “Deep in thought, likely intrigued by what I’m reading…”

“You’re a nerd.”

“I am,” Nick confirmed. “I’ll own it.” He pulled her closer. “Yet here you sit… On a date with a nerd… In his unpacked apartment…”

“It’s not the worst place to be,” Sabrina said.

He was gentle as he laid her down on the couch, his lips on hers. She liked how solid he felt over her, how his body was firm and strong. She wasn’t one to feel like she needed a man to protect her, but she found herself attracted to that solidness in Nick. She wanted him, was certain he wanted her. Yet when he eventually ended the make out session with a sweet kiss and settled in next to her on the couch, cocooning her between himself and the cushions, she wasn’t surprised.

“You’re good at that,” she told him.

“You are certainly not bad at it,” he countered. He brushed his lips over hers. “I like making out with you.” Her fingertips danced along his chest. “You make it hard for me to be a gentleman, Spellman.”

“You say things like that a lot,” Sabrina observed. “That I’m breaking your rules or you allude to wanting to take me upstairs yet you’re putting me in my car to send me home.” He looked uncomfortable. She trailed a finger along his jaw in an effort to soothe him.

“I like you,” he admitted. “I, um, I’m not very good at this whole thing though. Dating and stuff. But I like you. I don’t want to mess this up.”

“I like you, too,” she smiled at him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “You haven’t messed up anything.” There wasn’t a lot of room on the couch, but he slid closer to her all the same. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

“I know who I am,” Nick replied in a self-deprecating manner. “I’m warning you now not to put a lot of faith in me, Spellman.”

“Why?” she challenged.

It was a loaded question.

“It’s for the best,” Nick said diplomatically. “Frankly, if I were a better man, I’d stop this now.” Sabrina tried to pull back, but she couldn’t with the way she was tucked netween him and the couch. “But I can’t. I keep saying you’re different, and I mean it.” He brushed her hair back. Her headband was still in her hair, but their heavy make out session had left it disheveled. He took it out and perched it on the back of the couch. “You terrify me, Spellman.”

It was easily one of the most honest things he had ever said.

“I’m not scary,” she promised him. “You can trust me, Nick.”

Nick only nodded. He couldn't bring himself to tell her it wasn’t her he didn’t trust. It was himself.

They stayed on his couch like that for a while, mostly quiet, stealing kisses, enjoying the feel of each other. When Sabrina yawned, Nick continued his dedication to doing the noble thing when it came to her. He helped her pack her bag of what he now knew were Hilda’s kitchen supplies and walked her to her car where they shared another long, passion-filled kiss. When he returned to his apartment, he found her headband on the back of the sofa. He dropped it into his messenger bag so he could give it back to her the next day.

Too wound up to sleep, not that he slept much anyway, he sat on his couch for a bit, thinking. His thoughts swirled, no matter how much he tried to slow them down. A mild annoyance grew as he struggled to pull himself back to a steady place so he could think through all that was on his mind in a logical fashion.

He remembered his journal then. He stood and went to the boxes stacked along the wall. He hadn’t labeled them, had no way of knowing which one he had dropped the journal in when he was haphazardly packing up his Chicago space. He had stacked the boxes along the wall before Sabrina arrived in an effort to make his space a little neater. He had no good excuse for not unpacking, he just simply hadn’t done it.

The first couple of boxes were a bust. He left them in the middle of the floor, telling himself that if they were open, it would prompt him to unpack them sooner rather than later. The third box held his worn leather journal among a hodgepodge of trinkets he recognized as from his nightstand. He reasoned he could have left them, or at least should have purged better before moving. He left the box where it was, found a pen in his bag, and sat down on the couch. He opened the journal for the first time in three months. He didn’t overthink things as he put pen to paper and let his thoughts flow the way his former therapist had instructed him, the way his new therapist recommended.

_I’m falling for Sabrina. I feel it in every fiber of my being. I’ve put up a lot of walls, layers of them. You break through one, you’re met by two or three more. But before I realized what was happening, she had scaled several of them. The walls are still very much there, but she’s inside of them now, lost in the maze I imagine I’m standing in the middle of, yet she’s growing ever closer to the center all the same._

_My new therapist encourages the relationship. She says it's a good thing, that I’m allowing someone to get close to me. A lot of me – most of me – wants Sabrina to get close. I want to keep holding her hand and kissing her. God, I love kissing her. But if I let her get close, I have to tell her who I really am. It’s not fair to saddle her with that. She’s too good, too decent, to get wrapped up in my chaotic life._

_But the alternative of not having her in my life… It gets harder to imagine with each passing day. I often think of her as those first rays of sunshine after several days of rain. I like the way she makes me feel. She makes me feel more like a man. She doesn’t need me to be that stereotypical definition of a protector, but all the same, having her in my arms gives me that feeling all the same._

_I suppose it's a sense of purpose._

_I want to make love to her. Tonight, I wanted to take her into my bedroom and worship every inch of her. Instead, I sent her home. That’s what she does to me. She makes me put on the brakes and take my time. She was engaged six months ago, after all. She was supposed to be getting married. I know her being with someone else is a big deal to her. She didn’t end her years long relationship just to jump into bed with someone new. That’s not who she is. Meanwhile, I had already slept with my first Greendale resident by my second day in town._

_Another reason I should walk away from this. I couldn’t begin to recall all the people I’ve been with. The only sliver of a silver lining I’ve got is that I’ve always been safe about it. Sabrina comes along and I cease my sleeping around. It’s been a month since I was with someone and I’ll admit it: I miss sex. But I want to be with her._

_How do I go forward without messing things up? Is it possible to put the past entirely behind me and just move forward? Keep the past where it is and create a new life, one that includes Sabrina? I don’t know if I have it in me to be a boyfriend. I’ve never been one before. But I have a feeling she won’t allow that. She won’t continue to see me casually. She’ll want that label, that confirmation that we’re together._

_She asks questions. She wants to know people. If this keeps going, she’s going to ask about my past. What do I tell her? Just the good parts? Or the not so good parts? The parts that have made me the mess of a man I am? I don’t know if I’m strong enough to tell her the truth. But I’m quickly becoming unsure of if I’m strong enough to lose her._

_I’m quickly losing myself in her. I told her she was terrifying. She has no idea how true that is. I’m scared shitless._

_Scared of falling for her._

_Scared of losing her._

_What a hell of a place to be._

He closed the journal and sat back on the couch, rubbing the space between his eyebrows in a failed effort to relieve the tension that had settled there. This was why he didn’t do relationships.

They were too damned complicated.

 _He_ was too damned complicated.

Yet here he was, plotting to use a headband as an excuse to see the girl he liked the next day. Give her a kiss.

And see if maybe, just maybe, she might want to see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A casual at home date night, but really, we were getting to know more of Nick. He let Sabrina into his physical space. That was huge for him. He's really wrestling with how he feels about her, and it's an interesting dynamic to explore. He's completely crazy about her - and completely terrified of her. 
> 
> Also - does Sabrina REALLY want to be a lawyer? And there's that whole business with Nick's godfather/family lawyer...
> 
> Next update, it's Sabrina's supposed to be wedding day. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this one! 
> 
> (And maybe send up a player/burn a candle/whatever you do that Part 4 gives us what we deserve...)


	9. Dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Sabrina's non-wedding day. How is she going to take it?

_All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation_   
_My hands are shaking from holding back from you_

Sabrina wandered down the stairs far later than she normally would on a Saturday morning. She had stayed tucked in her room on purpose, giving the house time to clear out. Ambrose had never come home the night before, Zelda was once more in charge of Saturday detention, and surely Hilda had left for her usual Farmer’s Market run by now. With luck, she had left breakfast, however.

Luck was not on Sabrina’s side in any regard.

Hilda sat at the table, happily sipping coffee as she flipped through her recipe cards.

“Morning, love,” she greeted.

“Why are you here?” Sabrina countered. Hilda raised an eyebrow. “Sorry,” she quickly corrected. “It’s just that it's Saturday and it’s after nine. I thought you would be at the Farmer’s Market.”

“I decided to go a bit later this morning,” Hilda said casually. “Been a while since I’ve had a slow Saturday morning, hasn’t it?”

“Or you’re well-aware that I was supposed to be getting married today and you drew the short straw to stay home and make sure I’m not crying into my cornflakes.”

“Like I’d ever feed you cornflakes,” Hilda muttered.

“It’s an expression,” Sabrina said with no patience. “Am I right, though?”

“Not about the part where I drew the short straw,” Hilda shrugged. “Zelda has detention which you know she would never miss and who the bloody hell knows where Ambrose is. I just decided to stay home this morning is all.” Sabrina’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Zelda had watch last night,” she realized. “I should have known it when she was A) home and B) suggested we order pizza and have ice cream sundaes for dessert. She’s only ever done that when she’s been in charge of cheering me up.”

Sabrina could make a long list of the times Zelda was the one tasked with bringing her out of a bad mood. It was always junk food and movies. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t put two and two together the night before. Zelda wasn’t one to be overly emotional or talk things out. Depending on the circumstances, Sabrina sometimes preferred Zelda’s tough love to Hilda’s softer approach. Being told to pull herself together by Zelda was often what she needed to do just that.

But not today. Today, she thought if she weren’t going to be left alone to stew in peace, she wanted Hilda’s kinder approach. It would, after all, involve her favorite foods and a general tendency to allow her to have her way.

“You were so excited about your rehearsal dinner,” Hilda said gently, referring to how Sabrina’s Friday night was planned to go all those months ago. “We were going to have that delicious barbecue brought in from Riverdale…”

“To be clear, Harvey wanted that barbecue, not me,” Sabrina stated. “I wanted something a little more upscale.”

“Which should have been your first clue that your union was destined to fail.”

Zelda floated into the room, effectively ruining any hope Sabrina had of no tough love on the day.

“What are you doing here?” Hilda asked. “You have detention…”

“The Willis boy was the only one today and he didn’t show,” Zelda said. “I went to his quarters intending to drag him out. The sneak managed to get himself a weekend pass from that fool of a history teacher…”

“Melvin’s not a fool,” Sabrina piped up.

“Don’t say that about dear Melvin,” Hilda added at the same time.

“He’s a fool,” Zelda declared. She drifted to the coffee pot. “All that boy had to do was flatter Melvin’s so called teaching and Melvin is writing passes and getting him out of detention. That’s fine. It just means he’ll have two upon his return.”

“Pour me a cup of coffee?” Sabrina asked as she pulled out a chair at the table to sit down, unfazed by her aunt. Upheaval was simply the way of the Spellman household. Zelda was already walking away from the pot, coffee in hand.

“You can pour your own coffee,” she stated. “You may not be getting married today, but you’re not on your deathbed.”

“Maybe I’ll give Melvin a piece of my mind,” Sabrina grumbled as she glared at her aunt. “Letting your one student out of detention for the weekend punishes those of us left at home.”

“You’ll have to brew a fresh pot,” Zelda ignored Sabrina’s muttering as she settled at the table. “I poured the last of it.” Sabrina huffed, crossed the room, and snatched the pot with a little more force than necessary to fill it with water. “As I was saying, the fact that that boy wanted barbecue at a rehearsal dinner should have been the first sign that marrying him was a mistake.” She paused. “Actually, I’d say the ring was the first sign.”

“Now Zelda, there is nothing wrong with barbecue,” Hilda chastised. “Pork Belly's is a wonderful restaurant and I’m sure their catering is just fine, too. Cee and I ate there just last week. And as for the ring…” She paused for a moment, searching for something nice to say. “Well, he did the best he could, didn’t he?”

“It was an _oval,_ ” Zelda said with disdain. “So I was told, anyway. It was so small I couldn’t tell.”

“Blackwood gave you a small planet for a ring and look how well that worked out,” Sabrina bit from her place waiting by the coffee maker. “The rehearsal dinner menu nor the size or cut of my ring has anything to do with why Harvey and I aren’t getting married today.”

“I’m just glad you aren’t,” Zelda continued. “I’d rather have lost a few thousand dollars on nonrefundable deposits than watch you have to go through a divorce in a few years.”

“Or watch you be unhappy,” Hilda added in a much softer tone. “I know this isn’t the day you imagined it to be, Sabrina, but I do think you made the right decision in the end.” That was saying something, given that Hilda had always been fond of Harvey.

“I did,” Sabrina said with certainty. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not a little bit sad to not be getting married today.” She had planned a beautiful wedding, or at least made headway on planning one, and there was a melancholy feeling around not being surrounded by her bridesmaids this morning – well, Roz and Theo – as she began to prepare for that evening’s ceremony.

“Of course you’re a little sad,” Hilda said in her gentle tone. “You and Harvey were together for a long while. You grew up together. It’s only natural that today has a dark cloud over it.”

“You should go find that bartender of yours, brighten it up,” Zelda suggested. Again, Sabrina glared at her. “Don’t look at me like that.” She reached for the cream in the middle of the table. “He’s a man worthy of you. Smart, good looking, appears to come from wealth.” She settled her eyes on Sabrina. “Has ambition.”

“Don’t bring Nick into this,” Sabrina warned.

“I’m just saying,” Zelda shrugged.

“What would you like for breakfast?” Hilda asked, getting to her feet in an effort to temper the brewing argument. “Name it, and I’ll make it.”

“French toast would be lovely,” Zelda answered. Hilda swatted at her even though she wasn’t near enough to touch her.

“Not you, sister. Sabrina.” Sabrina looked at Zelda and smirked.

“Waffles would be lovely, Auntie Hilda.” Zelda pursed her lips in annoyance. Sabrina pursed her lips to keep from laughing. Hilda snickered under her breath. Zelda loathed waffles.

“Waffles it is, then. I’ll add some blueberries, make them a bit like those pancakes you love so much.”

Sabrina poured herself a cup of coffee and put the carafe back to allow it to finish brewing.

“How do you plan to spend your day, Sabrina?” Zelda questioned as Sabrina joined her at the table.

“I’m going to eat an alarming amount of waffles, change out of my pajamas and into my best athleisure wear, probably have ice cream for lunch, and lose myself in old horror movies.”

“Productive, then.” Zelda’s tone dripped with disapproval.

“She gets to do whatever she wants today,” Hilda defended from where she mixed waffle batter. “Leave her alone, Zelda.”

“It does one no good to wallow,” Zelda pronounced.

“I strongly disagree,” Sabrina said as she mixed sugar and cream into her coffee. “I’m a big believer in a good wallow.”

“That’s the Hilda in you.” Hilda gave Zelda a dirty look Zelda actively ignored. “I suggest you get dressed, leave this house, and find something to distract yourself.” She peered at Sabrina. “May I once again suggest the bartender?”

“Aunt Zelda…” Sabrina warned.

“You were at the boy’s place until nearly midnight the other night,” Zelda continued. “You were practically giddy the next morning.”

“We had dinner,” Sabrina said diplomatically.

“Hmm,” Zelda hummed into her coffee.

“We did,” Sabrina insisted. “Not that I need to explain…”

“Quite true,” Hilda broke in. “Zelda, leave her alone.” The waffle iron sizzled as she poured batter onto it. “It’s her right to do as she pleases today – and to not tell us about her relationship with Nicholas.”

“Is it too early for a drink?” Sabrina grumbled.

“Now you’re sounding like my niece,” Zelda said approvingly. She slid back from the table. “We’ll have mimosas. I’ll gather the champagne flutes.”

“Alcohol she’ll get up for,” Sabrina said as Zelda exited the room. “Can’t let her niece have the last cup of coffee on what was supposed to be her wedding day, but champagne…”

“That’s just her way, love,” Hilda soothed. “It’s just you and me now. How are you doing? Really?”

“I’ve been better,” Sabrina admitted with a sigh. “I have no doubts that I made the right choice by calling off the engagement. But today is… weird.” She bit her lip. She could confess what she was feeling to Hilda. “Now that Roz is dating Harvey, it’s extra weird. She offered to come over, spend the day with me, but she’s his girlfriend now, you know? I imagine he needs support too.”

“What about Theo?” Hilda wondered.

“Him and Robin left early yesterday morning. They found a good flight deal and you know Theo.”

“Travel blogger extraordinaire, off on anything that flies,” Hilda agreed. “You do what you need to do today, love. I’ll be here, and you know Zelda will be as well.” Sabrina smiled, knowing Hilda’s words were utterly true, despite her aunts’ very different ways of going about showing they cared.

The front door opened and slammed closed.

“Cousin!” Ambrose announced as he breezed into the room with the air of someone who had had a really good night. “How shall we celebrate this beautiful day?”

“Where have you been?” Hilda questioned, looking at him curiously.

“Ah, dear Aunt Hilda, your ears are too pure for that,” Ambrose said as made his way to the coffee pot. “Sabrina, Prudence and I have quite the plans in Riverdale tonight. I’d invite you, but I happen to know you won’t enjoy it.” Sabrina wrinkled her nose. She could only imagine what Ambrose and Prudence had planned in Riverdale. “But I’m yours for the day. How do we begin to honor the fact that you did not make the biggest mistake of your life to date?”

“With champagne,” Zelda entered the room with two champagne flutes in each hand. “We’re having mimosas.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” Ambrose agreed. “I’ll even get the orange juice.”

“Sabrina gets the first waffle,” Hilda said, setting a plate with a perfectly golden waffle down in front of Sabrina. “I’ll get the whipped cream for you.”

Zelda popped the champagne with enthusiasm.

Seated at the table, coffee in hand, waffle steam rising in front of her, Sabrina smiled to herself. Part of her was sad, disappointed. But another part of her could clearly see what was right in front of her.

Her family.

She may not end the day with a husband. But she was certainly going to start it with the people that truly meant the most to her.

* * *

Nick had found his groove. He had graded a decent amount of undergrad exams, but the real progress had come in the form of his paper. He was well into it, his research solid, his words forming easily. A full weekend to focus was exactly what he had needed. He had briefly seen Sabrina the day after she cooked dinner at his place, using her headband as an excuse to see her, and had exchanged a few texts with her over the last couple of days, but otherwise, he had been holed up in his apartment for more than twenty-four hours without outside contact save for food delivery and he didn’t hate it. He had every intention of working a few more hours, sleeping in, and spending his Sunday proofing his paper and finishing his grading. If he finished at a decent hour, he thought he might even call Sabrina and ask her to dinner.

His cell phone lit up.

_Dorian Gray._

He ignored it and resumed typing.

Dorian called again. Nick glanced at the clock. It was nearing half past eleven. Around now, the bar would be flooded with students and locals alike, business in full swing. He was certain Dorian was calling to ask him to come in. He ignored the call again.

When Dorian called right back a third time, Nick answered.

“I’m not coming in. Don’t ask.”

“Ah, my dear Nicholas, as much as I could use your services tonight, I do respect your request for time for your studies,” Dorian drawled. “I’m calling with a personal matter. You see, there is a rather drunk blonde seated at my bar that I believe you are quite fond of.”

“Sabrina,” Nick deciphered.

“Sabrina,” Dorian confirmed. “She’s pounded down a few gin and tonics and I believe there were tequila shots as well. Awful combination, but I’m not to blame. I only made the G and Ts. She’s alone and I would normally call Ambrose, but he’s off to a soiree in Riverdale with Prudence I personally envy them for attending. I could put her in an Uber and send her home, but she is in quite the state… Seems today was to be her wedding day…”

Nick cursed. He had completely forgotten her wedding date was coming up.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said, already standing even as he saved his paper. “Keep an eye on her until I get there?”

“Like a hawk,” Dorian promised.

Nick quickly pocketed his wallet and phone, grabbed his keys, and rushed out of his apartment. He was at Dorian’s within his promised ten minutes. He paused in the doorway to search for Sabrina. Dorian spied him and tilted his head to the end of his bar. Nick nodded his thanks and approached her.

“Another one of these, please!” Sabrina called out to the closest bartender, holding up an empty glass. The bartender, an undergrad named Mark, eyed Sabrina suspiciously.

“I think you’ve had enough, Spellman,” Nick slipped between her and the stool next to her. “How about we close out your tab and get you home?”

“Nick!” Sabrina spun on her stool. “You’re here!” She threw her arms around his neck. He caught her around the waist to keep her from falling off the stool. “Hi!”

“Hi.” He couldn’t help but smile a bit. It seemed she didn’t hold her alcohol well. “You’re drunk.”

“I am,” she confirmed. “I needed to leave my aunts and have drinks.”

Nick deciphered that Sabrina had left her aunts at home and came to Dorian’s.

“How about I take you home?” he proposed. “I don’t think you need another drink.”

“You can take me home,” Sabrina confirmed. “You can take me home with you.”

Nick kept an arm around her waist as he motioned for Dorian.

“Ah, your white knight has arrived,” Dorian drawled.

“Nick’s here, Dorian!” Sabrina announced gleefully.

“Yes, I called him,” Dorian nodded. “You are in no shape to get yourself home and I happen to like you enough to make sure you do so safely.”

“Close her tab out?” Nick asked him. Sabrina had lulled against him, her head resting on his shoulder, an arm still around his neck. He felt her beginning to slide off the stool, so he moved a little closer, most of her weight resting on him.

“I’m feeling incredibly generous,” Dorian said. “Look at her, Nicholas. The girl is a jilted bride. Or, well, she did the jilting, didn’t she? Nonetheless, I can’t charge her. Tell her of my good need tomorrow, will you?”

“Thank you, Dorian,” Nick said with a nod of gratitude. “And thank you for calling.”

“I thought you would appreciate it,” Dorian said as he drifted off. “Just get her home safely.”

“Come on, Spellman.” Nick lifted her off the stool. She wobbled on her feet a bit, but he kept his arm around her. He found her wristlet hanging on the hook under the bar and looped it around his own wrist. “Time to get you home.”

“I was supposed to get married today,” she told him as they made their way through the bar. “To Harvey. I’m glad I called off the wedding, but I was supposed to have a wedding today.”

“I can’t say I’m disappointed you called off the wedding,” he said as they stepped outside. He had parked haphazardly in front of the bar. He led her to the passenger’s side. “We’ll get your car tomorrow, Spellman.”

“You’re taking me home,” she said again. She stumbled as she tried to turn to him. He caught her by the elbow to steady her. “Oops!” she giggled. She sloppily threw her arms around his neck again. “I’m so glad you’re here, Nick.”

He hugged her back, a hand running up and down her back. Despite her intoxication, he could sense that she was a little sad.

“I’m glad I’m here, too.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Let me get you in the car, okay? I’m going to take you home.”

“Everyone went out,” she told him. “Ambrose is at some sex party in Riverdale with Prudence.” Nick made a face. “Zelda went off with Mambo. And Hilda disappeared into her bedroom with Cee. She offered to stay in the living room with me, but she had been with me allllll day and I told her to go. Everyone had someone but me, so I came here.” She smiled a bit. “I lied to Hilda. I told her I was going to watch another movie, but I got drunk instead.”

“You certainly did,” Nick agreed as he considered what to do with Sabrina. He wasn’t sure he wanted her alone in her current state.

“And Theo left,” she continued. “He got on a plane again with Robin. And Roz… Well, she’s Harvey’s girlfriend now. She came to visit for a while but she left again. She had to split her time, you see. Harvey is sad, but that’s my fault.” She tried to pull away from Nick, but she stumbled again. Nick righted her once more.

“Careful, Spellman,” he muttered.

“He’s jealous of you,” Sabrina informed him. “Harvey. He told me so. He saw us at the Farmer’s Market and he asked me about it at the grocery store. I mean, he didn’t say he was jealous, but he’s definitely jealous…”

“I don’t care if he is,” Nick said truthfully. “You said Ambrose and Zelda are out?”

“Gone,” she confirmed. “I don’t wanna know what Ambrose is doing.”

“Me either,” Nick agreed. “And Hilda is home?”

“She’s with her Cee,” Sabrina nodded. “I don’t want to know what they’re doing either.”

Nick made up his mind.

“I’m taking you home with me,” he told her. “I’m a little worried about leaving you alone. I’m not sure you can navigate all those stairs at the mortuary without hurting yourself, let alone be trusted to actually go to bed.”

“I’ll go home with you,” Sabrina purred.

“We’re going to go to my place to sleep,” Nick said with certainty. He absolutely would not take advantage of Sabrina in her current state. “Come on, Spellman, in the car.”

She was surprisingly cooperative as he drove to his place and then navigated her up the stairs to his apartment. He let them inside and locked the door behind them. It was after midnight now. Nick led her to his bedroom.

“I haven’t been in here,” she commented.

“No girl has,” he said as he went searching for a t-shirt she could sleep in. “I’ve told you, Sabrina. You’re my rule breaker.”

“Why do you have so many rules?” she wondered. “Almost every time we’re together you talk about your rules.”

“Rules are a safeguard,” Nick answered. “For both you and I. Except you seem intent on disregarding them all.” He held out a Chicago Bears t-shirt. “You can sleep in this.”

Sabrina took it from him, but she kept coming and wrapped her arms around him again. His instinctively went around her waist.

“I don’t need clothes,” she told him. “You don’t either.” She placed a sloppy kiss on Nick’s lips. “We can have sex and sleep naked.”

“No,” Nick shook his head, “we can’t.”

“Yes, we can,” Sabrina insisted. “I want you.” She frowned dramatically. “Unless you don’t want me?” Nick cupped her cheek in his hand.

“I want you,” he assured her. “Desperately, if I’m being honest.” She smiled in a way that made him believe she thought she was going to get her way. “But not tonight. Not like this.” His thumb brushed across her cheek. “Not while you’re drunk on the night you were supposed to get married.”

“But it would make me happy,” Sabrina pouted. Nick kissed her forehead.

“Trust me, Sabrina. You won’t be happy in the morning if we do this tonight.”

“You’re always turning me down,” she continued. “I don’t like it.”

Nick sighed. He decided to just be honest. She likely wouldn’t remember most of this in the morning anyway.

“Sabrina, I spend a substantial amount of my time thinking about how I want to strip your clothes off and see just how flexible that dancer body of yours is.” Even in her inebriated state, goosebumps erupted along her arms. “I want you enough to give up other women and spend a lot of time with my hand.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m trying my damnedest to do this right. You have no idea how hard this is for me, but I’m trying.”

“Why is it hard?” Sabrina wondered. Her breath smelled like alcohol. He continued his honesty.

“Because I’m falling for you,” he admitted. “I don’t want to, but I don’t think I have a choice in the matter.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Okay, Spellman, change into this shirt. I’m going to get you something that will help curb that hangover when you wake up.”

Nick left her in his bedroom and went to his kitchen. He put a slice of bread in the toaster, found the Tylenol he was looking for, and poured Sabrina a glass of water. When he returned to her, she was sitting in the middle of his bed wearing his t-shirt. He paused for just a moment, struck by the image. He took a mental snapshot and committed it to memory.

“I’m all changed,” she informed him. “This shirt smells like you.”

“Well, it is my shirt,” he reminded her. He sat down on the edge on the bed. “Take these.” He held out two Tylenol. She popped them in her mouth, then accepted the glass of water from him. “Now, eat this.” He offered her a piece of toast smeared with peanut butter and topped with apples. She raised an eyebrow. “I know it’s odd, but it will help your body process the alcohol, swear.”

“I’m drunk enough to believe you,” she stated. She took the napkin holding the toast. Nick got to his feet.

“I’m going to turn off the lights and get ready for bed. You eat that toast and get under the covers.”

“Are you going to sleep with me?” she asked in a way that Nick thought sounded almost insecure. “I don’t mean have sex with me. I mean sleep with me.”

“I’m going to sleep with you,” he confirmed. He had considered sleeping on the couch, but she was there and she was in his bed. He had to allow himself to indulge in at least some of his guilty pleasure which had rapidly become Sabrina instead of ‘women.’ “Be right back.”

He left her again. He took his time cleaning up the kitchen and his workspace, then went into the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. When he emerged once more, Sabrina was in his bed, the blankets pulled around her.

“You don’t make your bed, Scratch.”

He chuckled.

“I don’t,” he confirmed. “I suppose you think I should?”

“If you do nothing else with your day, make your bed,” Sabrina quipped. “Hilda says so.”

“Well, if Hilda says so…” He turned off the overhead light, pitching them into darkness. He got into bed and had barely gotten comfortable before Sabrina was moving into his arms. She settled with her head on his chest.

“I’m going to sleep right here,” she determined.

“I won’t complain.” Nick’s hand ran along her back. He tried to remember the last time he had slept – just slept – with someone. He didn’t think he ever had. “Want to know what rule I’m breaking right now?”

“You’re letting a girl sleep in your bed,” Sabrina guessed.

“That would be the one,” Nick confirmed as his fingers played through her hair. “Get some sleep, Spellman. You’re going to have quite the hangover in the morning.”

“Oh well,” she sang out.

Nick chuckled and kissed the top of her head.

Within a few minutes, she was asleep.

Nick, however, lay awake. His body was relaxed, comforted by the girl in his arms. But his mind was an obstacle course, running through everything from a thought about his research from earlier to his conflicted feelings about Sabrina and the situation he had found himself in. And still, when he finally fell asleep, he slept better than he had in months.

* * *

Sabrina groaned and lifted her head from the pillow she was face down in. Her head was pounding and her mouth felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton. She looked around the room, trying to determine her location. It was unfamiliar. She glanced down, panicked, but was relieved to find she was wearing a t-shirt. Not her t-shirt, but a t-shirt all the same. She looked to her left. Her eyes fell on a water bottle with two Tylenol next to it. She pushed herself up to her elbows. A note was tucked under the bottle.

_Out running a few errands. I’ll be back soon. Take the pills, drink the water, and go back to sleep. – Nick_

“Nick,” she breathed in a sigh of relief. Vague memories of the previous night came back to her. She remembered going to Dorian’s, drinking too much, and Nick appearing to take her home. Apparently to his place. She dropped her head back to the pillow as embarrassment took over. She hardly ever had more than two drinks, but of course Nick had seen her at the most drunk she had been in a very long time. “Great.”

She lifted herself back up and reached for the water bottle. Her headache wasn’t mild by any means, but it wasn’t as bad as she expected it to be. She remembered Nick had gotten her to eat toast and given her a dose of Tylenol before bed. She suspected that had helped. She took the next dose and laid back down, the blankets pulled over her head.

She didn’t remember falling back asleep, but when she woke up again, she felt a lot better. The night before was still hazy, so she could only hope she hadn’t made a complete fool of herself. The steady click of a computer keyboard told her Nick was back and in the living room. She eased out of bed and checked her appearance in the mirror over his dresser. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, she reasoned. She smoothed her hair and checked that the t-shirt covered enough before she cautiously padded out into the living area.

“There she is,” Nick greeted. “How are you feeling, Spellman?”

“Better than expected.” She stood awkwardly, not sure of what Nick thought of her now that he had seen her in such a state. “I hope I wasn’t too awful last night.”

“You’re a cute drunk.” He saved his paper and put his laptop aside. He was dressed down in gym shorts and a long sleeve shirt, his hair disheveled. Sabrina thought it was the most attractive she had ever found him. “Not very graceful, though.”

Sabrina cringed.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I never do that. But I had been with my aunts and Ambrose all day and it was just a lot going on and when I was finally left alone…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Nick cut her off. “Yesterday was tough for you.”

“Still… “

“The only thing you have to do is come over here and sit down next to me,” he cut her off again. “I’m rather comfortable and it would be inconvenient for me to get up right now.”

She smiled a bit and made her way to him. She tried to sit a respectable distance from him, but he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his side.

“I should probably call my aunts,” she said even as she settled against him. “Let them know I’m not dead…” She didn’t even know where her phone was.

“I texted Ambrose, let him know where you are,” Nick reported. “And your bag is on the counter.”

Sabrina let her head rest on his shoulder. He really did think of everything.

“Thank you for picking up last night,” she ventured.

“Dorian called and said he would rather not put you in an Uber in your condition. It sounded like everyone was out or otherwise occupied at home, so I brought you here. I couldn’t allow you to risk all those stairs in your condition.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “Not to mention a little embarrassed.”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Nick shook his head. “Everyone has their moments. And again, yesterday was a tough day for you.”

“It was my choice though,” she reminded him. “I chose to call things off. So my not getting married yesterday probably shouldn’t have driven me to such extremes.”

“It’s okay to mourn what you lost,” Nick reasoned. “You were with that guy for a long time.” Sabrina didn’t move, but she tilted her chin up so she could look at Nick.

“Does it bother you that I was engaged?” she wondered. Nick frowned.

“Why would that bother me?”

“I was with Harvey for nearly a decade. There’s a lot of history there.”

“But he wasn’t making you happy in the end,” Nick pointed out. “You did what you needed to do to make yourself happy. Unless Harry…”

“Harvey…”

“... decides he wants to win you back, I’m not really concerned about him.”

“He’s with Roz now,” she reasoned. “He’s happy.” She sounded sad.

“Are you happy?” Nick wondered. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer, but he waited for it anyway.

“Mostly,” Sabrina nodded. “Honestly? The thing that bothered me the most about yesterday was that Roz wasn’t around. I mean, she came over and hung out for several hours, had lunch with me, watched a couple of movies, talked about anything but the wedding and Harvey. But she was split between me and Harvey. I’m pretty sure that’s why Theo left ahead of schedule, too – he didn’t want to be torn between us. I didn’t just ruin my relationship with Harvey. I damaged it with Roz and Theo, too, even if we’re all still friends.”

Nick chose his words carefully.

“Sometimes you have to be selfish, Sabrina. You have to put what you need first. What you needed was to not promise to spend the rest of your life with someone that you may have loved, but perhaps not in the way you needed to to commit to a marriage. Maybe some bridges got burned. Maybe others were damaged. It might take some time to patch things back together and there might be some bridges that are never quite repaired. But isn’t this better than a life you didn’t want?”

“It is,” she admitted after a beat. She sighed and snuggled a little closer. “You give really good pep talks, Scratch.”

“I don't know if I’d call that a pep talk,” Nick mused. “But I’m glad you found it inspiring.”

“Did you at least get some work done?” she questioned. “I know that was your goal this weekend, not taking care of a drunk almost bridge.”

“I made a lot of progress,” he confirmed, his fingers running up and down her arm. “I finished grading the last of the exams while you slept, and I got another few paragraphs of my paper done.” He brought her a little closer to his side, just because she fit so well there. “I ran out to the grocery store to pick up some more coffee since I used the last of it last night. I stopped at that bakery a few blocks down and got some bagels and cream cheese while I was at it. Want me to toast you one?”

“You can tell me where they are and I’ll toast one,” she said, already moving to stand up. “Do you want one?”

“Sit down,” Nick pulled her back to the couch. “I’m going to toast you a bagel. It’s pretty much the only thing I can confidently accomplish in the kitchen. Let me have this.” Sabrina giggled a bit. “I need a kiss first, though.”

“I can do that,” Sabrina agreed. Nick moved in to kiss her, but she gasped and turned her head away. Nick’s lips landed on her cheek. “I haven’t brushed my teeth!” Nick chuckled and kissed her shoulder where his shirt had slipped to reveal the soft skin there.

“I may have picked up a disposable toothbrush for you while I was getting coffee,” he admitted. “It’s on the bathroom sink.”

“You’re an actual saint,” Sabrina said in wonder. “Thank you, Nick.”

“Thank me with a kiss once you’ve brushed your teeth,” he requested. He stood and she did the same. “Cream cheese on that bagel, Spellman?”

“Please,” she nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared into the bathroom. When the door shut behind her, she took a moment to just breathe.

Nicholas Scratch was a wonder.

Her experience dating was admittedly limited. Harvey was her high school sweetheart and she had gone on two dates between ending her engagement and meeting Nick. They were both perfectly okay dates, but she hadn’t been attracted enough to either of them to go out with them again. Harvey had been perfectly fine, a gentleman in every way. He treated her well. But he didn’t think about details. He wouldn’t have thought to pick up a toothbrush for her or remembered to grab her bag if he was the one picking her up from the bar. He wouldn’t have known exactly what she needed to hear about being selfish sometimes. His inability to listen to her and his penchant for saying the wrong thing when she was upset was something they had bickered over more than once.

It wasn’t fair to compare Nick and Harvey, and yet she couldn’t help it. Nick was Harvey’s opposite in so many ways. They were even built opposite, Harvey tall and slight, Nick average height and solid. She certainly felt different with Nick. She didn’t think Harvey had ever meant to make her feel like she should tamper down her accomplishments or some of her more passionate moments, but she had always felt a little guilty about pursuing a degree and then a law degree while Harvey worked away in the mines. Without meaning to, she had fallen into the role of ‘wife,’ coming home from school, making him dinner. It didn’t feel like her and yet she had thought it was supposed to be her. Nick insisting he toast her bagel was a role reversal of sorts which she supposed was why the simple act had struck her so hard.

She was falling for Nick. She wasn’t sure she should be. A small part of her sensed that he was hiding something. He made too many references to his list of rules, seemed to still be keeping her at arm’s length, even as he pulled her in a little more each day. She remembered how he was the night before, painfully respectful and pointing out that he was breaking yet another one of his rules by allowing her to sleep in his bed. All she could do was trust her instincts and take the chance that whatever Nick was hiding wasn’t a deal breaker.

She made quick work of using the restroom, splashing some water on her face, and wiping away the remnants of last night’s makeup. She brushed her teeth and tried again to tame her hair. Deciding it was as good as things were going to get, she returned to the living area.

“I gambled and decided you probably like a lot of cream cheese,” Nick greeted when he saw her. “If I gambled wrong, I’ll eat that one and give you the one that’s in the toaster now.” Sabrina had to smile.

“I’ll take the cream cheese.” Nick chuckled as she slid onto a stool and put her bagel in front of her. “Cream and sugar for the coffee?”

“Please,” she confirmed. She noted that Nick’s own coffee was black. She suspected he had also picked up cream and sugar for her benefit. It was another tug on whatever it was drawing them to one another. When he came around the bar to sit next to her, she turned on her stool and caught his hand. “Hey.” He raised an eyebrow in question and she smiled at him. “I owe you.”

She pulled him to her and brought him into a kiss. He groaned into it and she couldn’t stop herself from pulling him in still closer, bagels and coffee forgotten.

“Thank you,” she breathed when they finally parted nearly a full minute later. “For picking me up last night. Taking care of me.” She smiled. “Breakfast.”

“I will toast you a bagel every morning if that’s the kind of reaction it gets,” Nick declared.

They settled into their breakfast. Sabrina asked Nick about his paper and he told her about his research as they ate. When they were left with crumbs, Sabrina knew she should probably go home and let Nick get back to his work.

“I think it’s time for me to call an Uber and pick up my car,” she commented as she quickly washed their few breakfast dishes, a chore she was well-versed in thanks to all of her years with Hilda. Nick dried and put the dishes away. That was another difference. She didn’t think she and Harvey had ever done dishes together. Nick had just – started helping.

“I’ll take you to get your car,” Nick said in a way that gave her no room to argue. His hand brushed along her back. “You don’t have to go just yet…”

“You have your paper… And this was your weekend to get work done…”

Nick leaned in and kissed her to stop her from protesting.

That kiss ignited something between them. Sabrina melted against him, allowed him to pull her into him, her own arms around him. She didn’t notice his hand leave her waist, but she shuttered as his fingertips skimmed up her thigh and under the hem of her shirt.

“I obviously don’t care about my paper right now,” he hummed.

“I’m in no rush to go home,” she muttered against his lips.

“Then don’t.”

“I won’t.”

She found herself pressed between him and the counter. One of his hands cupped her cheek while the other continued to stroke the outside of her thigh. He kissed her like she was his lifeline and she was happy to anchor him. Her own hands drifted down his chest and up again.

“I want you…,” he husked. His hips pressed into her, whether on purpose or on instinct Sabrina didn’t know. She didn’t care. She wanted him to do it again. “You’re going to have to say no if you don't want this to go any further. Because I don’t have it in me to stop us again.”

“I’m yours,” she told him between kisses. His lips started to move down her heck. “All yours.”

He continued to kiss her as he walked her backwards into his bedroom. He lowered her to the bed and didn’t break their kiss as his body covered hers. Sabrina welcomed the weight of him. She felt like both his equal and at his mercy at the same time.

“Mmmm,” she hummed as his hand slid further under her shirt.

“Say the word and I’ll stop,” he promised. “But you’re going to have to say it this time.” Sabrina silenced him by kissing him.

He slipped off her so he could touch her properly. She wasn’t wearing a bra under his t-shirt, something he had noted the night before. He instinctively knew she wasn’t as experienced in bed, even if she had been with Harvey for years. As someone who rather enjoyed sex and pushing the limits, he had the impression Sabrina had only ever known decent sex, hadn’t experienced what it was like to be worshipped.

That’s what he did.

He used his hands to remove his t-shirt that covered far too much of her body and eventually, her panties, his hands exploring her. His own clothes came off. He kissed her wherever his lips could land, drew her further and further into a state of ecstasy. She fell apart as his fingers moved over her and in her.

“Nick!” she called out, nails digging into his back. Her passionate cry spurred him on.

He didn’t give her time to recover before he was over her. He couldn’t think straight, his senses full of her and his own want above and beyond anything he had experienced in a long while. He was inside of her before he realized what had happened. It was a few slow and deliberate thrusts in that he realized what he had done.

“Shit!”

He stilled. Sabrina opened her eyes, brought back to reality by his abrupt pause.

“Nick?”

“I forgot to put on a condom…” He made to pull out of her. He had never – ever – made that mistake before. Even at his most desperate, he had always paused long enough to roll on protection. “I’m sorry… I have some… Let me…”

“Nick,” she tried as he fumbled for his nightstand.

“Just a second…”

“Nick.” She caught his hand. He finally looked at her. “I have an IUD,” she promised him. “I’m trying to be a lawyer, not a mom. Not yet.”

He considered her. Now that he had been brought back to the present, he was hyper aware of how good – how different – it had felt to be sheathed without a layer of latex. His tongue ran over his lips, thinking.

“I’m clean,” he said after a bit. “I swear it. But if you want me to put on a condom…”

“That’s your choice.” Sabrina ran a hand through his curls. “I trust you and I know I’m protected. But if you’re more comfortable with a condom, that’s fine. This is your choice, too.”

Nick made his decision. He lowered his lips to hers, the condom forgotten, and began again.

He made love to her.

He knew, even if he didn’t acknowledge it, that that’s what they were doing – making love. Everything was different with her, everything was more alive, more intense. He relished the feeling of skin on skin, the way her body arched into him, how her hands burned hot on his skin.

Sabrina was on another plane. She was certain she had to be, because she had never felt anything like this. Nick was deep within her, filling her, making her feel incredible things. But there was something else there, some invisible connection that made her hold on tighter, cry out a little louder. When she came, she understood what women meant when they said they saw stars. She held on while Nick lost control of himself, his thrusts becoming erratic and more primal. When he called out her name and stilled on top of her, she knew what it felt like to be wanted wholly.

“God, Spellman,” Nick breathed, still inside her, his body limp. Her hands smoothed up and down his damp back. “I… That…” He couldn’t put words to it. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, her own words failing. Her hand worked through his curls. “That… You… Amazing...”

He kissed her shoulder and rolled off of her. He lay beside her, both of them on their backs, trying to catch their breath. Weak sunlight peeked through Nick’s blinds. Sabrina had a hundred questions, mostly around the status of their relationship, as her heart slowed back to normal and her thoughts caught up to what they had just done, but she kept them to herself for now.

“Why are you all the way over there?” Nick asked after a couple of minutes of quiet. They were so close their arms touched.

“I’m not far away…”

“Yes, you are.” Nick pulled her to him, and she rested her head on his chest. He thought he might have been made to lay in bed with Sabrina Spellman in his arms. “I didn’t know I liked to cuddle after sex.” Sabrina lifted her head.

“Interesting time for you to choose to say that,” she observed. Nick chuckled a bit.

“I guess not,” he agreed, realizing his faux pas. “Consider it another rule broken.”

“Why do you have so many rules?” Sabrina wondered.

“I just – do,” Nick said nonchalantly. He really didn’t want to get into this conversation, not now, after the moment he had been fantasizing about had finally happened.

“A bad breakup?” Sabrina guessed. Nick shook his head.

“I’ve never had a girlfriend.” Sabrina frowned.

“Seriously?”

“You sound like I committed a crime…”

Sabrina crossed her arms over his chest and rested her chin on them so she could look at him.

“It’ just… you’re like… Ideal boyfriend material…” she explained. “You’re smart, handsome, kind…” Nick shook his head in disagreement. “You’re thoughtful. I mean, you picked up a toothbrush for me, Nick. That’s the kind of thing you write down when you’re a teenager dreaming up your ideal boyfriend with your girlfriends during a sleepover. ‘Picks up toothbrush for the first night you spend at his place.’”

“So you plan on staying here again?” Nick asked, purposefully trying to steer the conversation away from a dangerous line of discussion.

“I could be persuaded to spend another night here.” Nick kissed her deeply. “Not tonight, though,” she added when he pulled away. “I’ve got a lot of work waiting on me that I’ve ignored these last few days and I believe you had a few things to accomplish, too.”

“Trading me in for law school,” Nick mused. Sabrina laughed a bit. “Hang out for a little while longer?” he proposed, not quite ready to face whatever waited for them on the other side of his bedroom door. It felt safe in his bed, like the outside world couldn’t penetrate the bubble they were in. “I’ll take you to get your car in a little while and you can go bury yourself in boring books.”

“Okay,” Sabrina agreed. “I’ll stick around a little longer.”

“Good.”

Nick kissed her hair as she got comfortable in his arms once more.

She wanted to ask.

She wanted to know where they stood.

He had said he was falling for her the night before. She was drunk, but she remembered it clearly. She wanted to know why he was afraid, if he was willing to let her cross the moat he kept around himself and join him on the other side.

Instead, she turned her head and pressed a kiss over his heart.

Her questions could wait a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, suffices to say the day after her non-wedding turned out okay, didn't it? I mean, there's that whole 'what are we?' question, but I think Sabrina has officially joined Nick in full on falling for the other. Who knew toasting a bagel could be the catalyst for such realizations? 
> 
> Next update, more of Ambrose, more of Nick, and more of Sabrina's professor...
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this update! Your comments area alllll the praise hands! XOXO


	10. So It Goes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you knew the song "Dress," you knew what was coming last chapter. ;) Now we're going to let Sabrina and Ambrose have a chat...

_I'm yours to keep_   
_And I'm yours to lose_   
_You know I'm not a bad girl, but I_   
_Do bad things with you_   
_So it goes_

“There she is!”

“You’re actually home?” Sabrina countered, finding Ambrose sprawled across a sofa in the Spellman living room. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“I was in need of recovery,” Ambrose quipped. He sat up and eyed her. “I think you may need a bit of recovery as well.”

“Don’t start,” Sabrina warned as she settled on an armchair.

“More like where to start?” Ambrose was practically glowing with amusement as he righted himself on the couch. “Shall we begin with how you got quite drunk last night? All alone at Dorian’s at that? Or how about the part where one Nicholas Scratch picked you up? Or, another choice to put on the table here, there’s the fact that it’s…” he made a show of checking his wrist for the time even though he wasn’t wearing a watch, “...four in the afternoon and you are just now rolling in from the aforementioned anthropologist in the making’s apartment with,” Ambrose grinned broadly and spread out his arms, “sex hair!”

“Ambrose!” Sabrina exclaimed.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Ambrose antagonized. “Tell me you didn’t have sex with the man.”

“I’m not talking about this.”

“Oh come on, cousin!” Ambrose needled. “I know what I know, and you know you’re going to tell me anyway. Fess up so we can talk about it.”

Sabrina continued to glare at him. He continued to grin his big stupid know-it-all grin. Sabrina knew she wasn’t getting out of there without confessing. He already knew too much, thanks to his tendency to gossip with Dorian the way Hilda gossiped with her friends at the Farmer’s Market every Saturday.

“Fine,” she stated, “I might have…” Ambrose howled. She both loved and loathed their brother-sister relationship in the moment. “But not until this morning, after I was awake and only mildly hungover.” She played with a piece of lint on the upholstery. “He ran out while I was sleeping and got bagels and a disposable toothbrush, Ambrose.”

Ambrose let out a low whistle.

“Look at Scratch go,” he said, seeing what Sabrina saw in the gesture. He considered himself a decent human, even if he was a bit free and loose between the bedsheets, but not even he had ever gone out to do that for one of his overnight guests. Granted, his tried to avoid bringing his guests back to his place, lest Hilda intercept them on the way out in the morning and insist they stay for breakfast. That was how Prudence had become such a constant companion.

“Last night, he brought me back to his place because I told him everyone was out and he was worried about all the stairs in this place given that I wasn’t exactly my most graceful self,” Sabrina continued. “He gave me a shirt to sleep in and got me to eat peanut butter banana toast and take a couple of Tylenol before I fell asleep. I’m certain that toast and Tylenol helped lessen the hangover this morning.”

“How was he in bed?” Sabrina gave Ambrose a look. “Oh come on, cousin! I tell you everything…”

“You tell me far too much…”

“What’s he like?” Ambrose insisted. “Prudence and I tried to convince him to join us a time or two. Dorian said he was rather experimental in undergrad, open to any all willing participants. Then you came along.”

“You’re incorrigible…”

“It must have been very good,” Ambrose observed. “Between the look on your face and the coy attitude, I would guess he rocked your world.”

Sabrina decided to just give that up too. Ambrose would nag her until she broke anyway, and she would spill her guts.

“It was incredible," she told him. Ambrose howled. “His looks match his abilities. Or, rather, his abilities surpass his looks. I have no regrets.”

“I’m so jealous,” Ambrose stated. “So so jealous.”

“You were at a sex party last night,” Sabrina reminded him.

“Still jealous.” Sabrina shook her head in amusement. She was well aware of Ambrose’s fluid sexuality, his openness to experimentation. She admired that about him and at times, she was even jealous. She had been so used to safe, traditional sex with Harvey that even what she did with Nick that morning, still missionary and standard by all accounts, had felt like it pushed her boundaries. She thought she might want him to push them further. “What a man to have a romp with.” Ambrose pierced her with a serious look. “Have you been with anyone else since Harvey?”

“Just Nick,” Sabrina confessed. “He’s only the second person I’ve been with, period.”

“That is so sad,” Ambrose said seriously. Again, Sabrina rolled her eyes. She didn’t feel the need to notch her bedpost the way Ambrose did. The way, it seemed, Nick did, given his past. It was like Ambrose could read her mind. “You’re trying to label it, aren’t you?” he guessed. “Trying to figure out what it means.”

“I can’t help it,” Sabrina confessed. “He’s so – him. I’m wildly attracted to him. I can’t deny that. And it seems like he feels it too…”

“Oh, he feels it,” Ambrose interrupted. “You could feel the jealousy rolling off him when he thought you were on a date with Theo. Never mind how he looks at you when you’re not looking, all full of want and lust and whatever other synonym you can think of that screams ‘I want to fuck her.’”

“Your language,” Sabrina shook her head.

“There’s a whole world of sexual adventure at your doorstep,” Ambrose said. “That’s all I’m saying.”

“Nick has all of these ‘rules,’” Sabrina shared, ignoring Ambrose’s implications. “‘Never take a girl back to his place’ and ‘never spend the night,’ on and on. He keeps telling me he’s breaking his rules with me, but when I asked him why he has so many rules, he basically said ‘I just do.’”

“Some girl must have done a number on him,” Ambrose mused. Sabrina shook her head.

“I asked him about that. He said he’s never had a girlfriend.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Ambrose commented. “A boyfriend, perhaps?”

“I don’t think so,” Sabrina shook her head. “I believe him when he says he hasn’t been in a relationship before. But I don’t understand why. I told him – he’s boyfriend material. He expertly shifted the conversation.”

“To be fair, pulling out the phrase ‘boyfriend material’ while you’re laying freshly fucked next to the guy does lend itself to sending a commitment phobic person running,” Ambrose pointed out.

“He didn’t seem to want to run,” Sabrina shook her head. “He asked me to stay a while longer.”

They had laid in his bed for a while longer and when she made the move to get up and get dressed, he had pulled her back to him, whining that he was comfortable. It had taken her reminding him he needed to finish his paper to get him out of bed and then they had still taken their time, walking to a sandwich stop a few doors down from his apartment for a late lunch before he finally took her back to Dorian’s to get her car. They had made out, leaning against her car, for several minutes before finally going their separate ways.

She was overthinking everything and couldn’t stop it.

“I say keep screwing him and see what happens,” Ambrose advised, settling back on the couch with his hands clasped behind his head. “It was good sex. Keep having it. You’re so serious sometimes, Sabrina. Let the guy mess up your sheets for a bit without strings. Live a little. You’ve been all ‘serious relationship’ for years. It’s okay to enjoy good, casual sex with a guy, so long as he’s being respectful.”

“He was definitely respectful,” Sabrina said. “Sweet, even.”

That was where her confusion fell. If Nick didn’t treat her so well, if he wasn’t asking her on dates and buying her toothbrushes, she would be more okay with calling it casual. But it felt like more with Nick. It felt like there was something there that neither of them were denying, but that he was pretty adamant about not addressing.

“I have a ton of homework,” she said, pushing herself to her feet. If she buried herself in her homework, maybe she’d stop overthinking things, at least for a while. “I should get to it. I’ve neglected it all weekend.”

Ambrose didn’t stop her. She grabbed a snack and something to drink from the kitchen, then made her way upstairs. In her room, she settled at her desk, intent to work until late into the night, not because she wanted to, but because she had to. Yet despite her effort at not overthinking things, all she could think about as she tried to read through her texts was the twinge between her legs that reminded her of what it felt like to be with Nick.

It took all the willpower she had not to call him up and ask for it again.

* * *

Nick stifled a yawn as he made his way through campus, the anthropology building ahead. He had worked on his paper late into the night on Sunday, with no regrets about how much of the day he had lost in bed with Sabrina. After a day of classes and TA’ing, he had then taken his turn for the Monday shift at the bar and now he felt the exhaustion creeping into his bones.

The thought of Sabrina led him to thinking about _Sabrina_. She kept popping into his mind, prevalent and beautiful, even more so now that he had slept with her. He had exchanged a number of texts with her but hadn’t seen her since he dropped her off at Dorian’s to get her car. He found himself hoping to see her today and it was like the universe heard his prayers and decided to throw him a bone. He spied her up ahead, her platinum hair like a beacon. He picked up his pace and caught her easily.

“Hey.” He grabbed her waist from behind, startling her. She let out a yelp and spun. Her features relaxed when she realized it was Nick.

“Nick,” she relaxed into a bright smile. “Hi.”

“Did I scare you?” he asked, falling into step beside her.

“You caught me by surprise,” she corrected. “But I’m glad to see you.” They traded a smile tinged with intimacy. “You look sleepy,” she observed.

“I am,” Nick admitted. “I worked on my paper late into the night on Sunday, and then it was my Monday at the bar.” He left out that he didn’t sleep well in general. He had only just realized that he had slept half decent on Saturday night, Sabrina in his arms, once he had finally fallen asleep. He bumped against her playfully, not wanting to think about anything negative. “How are you, Spellman? You look better rested than me at any rate.”

“For better or worse,” Sabrina shrugged. “I slept really well last night.”

“Color me jealous.” Nick took her in. She was dressed casually today, leggings and a Greendale University sweatshirt that looked especially comfortable. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“If we were in a courtroom, I would call you a liar,” she informed him. “Charge you with perjury.”

“Then I would have to have you disbarred,” Nick said seriously. “For trying to falsely accuse me.” Sabrina laughed, making him smile.

“We will have to agree to disagree,” she said. “Are you on your way to class?”

“I am,” Nick confirmed. “History of Ethnological Theory.” Sabrina wrinkled her nose.

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“It explores the themes in the history of anthropological theory,” Nick said as though he were reporting on the weather. “We’re taking a look at the scope and nature of work by Marx and Durkheim right now.”

Sabrina looked at him, once more taken by how smart he was. It was incredibly sexy.

“It’s your favorite class, isn’t it?” she guessed.

“It is,” Nick admitted. “So much so I’m ahead on at least the reading because I found the textbook fascinating and couldn’t put it down.”

“You really are a nerd, Scratch.” Sabrina wrapped her hand around his elbow without thinking much about the gesture. It just felt like the right thing to do. She didn’t notice how Nick walked a little taller when she did. “I don’t mind it though.”

“And where are you going?” Nick asked. “I seem to remember you saying you don’t have class until the afternoon on Tuesdays.”

“I’m going to dance for a bit,” she revealed. “The studio is free all morning. Then I’ve got a three-hour advocacy lecture to sit through.”

“Guessing that’s your least favorite class.”

“I actually like that one well enough,” Sabrina shrugged. “Business law and regulation tomorrow morning? Shoot me.” Nick refrained from asking her again why she wanted to be a lawyer. Instead, he slipped an arm around her and pulled her out of the way of a group of undergrads who weren’t paying attention to where they were going as they exited the building.

“I wish you would have lied to me, Spellman. Now I’ll have to sit in my favorite class and think about you a floor down, spinning and flipping and leaping…” When he looked at her, Sabrina saw the lust in his eyes. She imagined something similar was reflected in her own.

“Sorry,” Sabrina said with no sincerity whatsoever. “You’re just going to have to picture it in your mind.”

“Oh I will,” he assured her, making her laugh again. They walked together through the building and up the stairs, stopping outside the door to the studio. “This is where I leave you, Scratch.”

“Like I said, I’ll now be in class, thinking of you, in here dancing like the ballerina you are.”

“Once more, my sincerest apologies,” Sabrina leaned against the wall outside the door.

“You’re not sorry at all.” He stood in front of her, trapping her between himself and the wall. “Not even a little bit.”

When Nick kissed her, she melted into him. She used his belt loops to pull him closer. He deepened the kiss, ran his tongue along her lips to request access. She granted it, sighing in contentment. He only parted when they needed to breathe.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he said, repeating his phrase from several days earlier. He kissed her again, then stepped back to give her some space. He noted that she had dropped her bag at some point. He picked it up and returned it to her. “I should…”

“Sabrina?”

Sabrina looked to her left to see her Advocacy professor approaching.

“Dr. Thruston, hi,” she greeted the woman, her tone not revealing the annoyance she felt at the interruption. The woman didn’t return her smile. Nick stepped aside, giving Sabrina a bit more space.

“I would like to see you after class today, please.” Despite her phrasing, there was no politeness in her voice. It was an order. She glanced at Nick in a precursory sort of manner. He kept quiet. He got a cold vibe from the professor, sensed that the woman wasn’t happy with Sabrina.

“Okay,” Sabrina answered in a small voice. The woman said nothing more, but walked away, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. The sound somehow managed to echo, even if the hall was crowded with students exiting classes. Sabrina sighed and leaned against the wall again, her mood completely deflated. “That can’t be good.”

“She seems tough,” Nick observed.

“She is,” Sabrina confirmed. “I like her advocacy class – you have heard of my tendency to fight for my beliefs – but I’m not doing all that great in there. I just can’t seem to measure up to her standards. Hence why I can be found in here dancing more Tuesdays than not lately.”

“Is now the wrong time to suggest connecting the dots between how you’re happy when you dance and maybe not so much when you’re sitting in a law class?” Nick asked.

“You’re not helping,” Sabrina shook her head.

“But maybe I am.” He had planted the seed already that she perhaps wasn’t as happy with being a lawyer as she led people to believe, something he thought she already knew deep down. He was simply watering that seed now. He leaned in and kissed her sweetly to comfort her. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Crying into a bowl of ice cream if this conversation doesn’t go well,” Sabrina said crossly.

“Come over to my place,” Nick proposed. “I’m not working tonight. We can go out, grab some dinner, maybe come back and watch a movie… Or you can bring your books and we can have a study session on the couch.”

“Dinner and a movie,” Sabrina determined, already sensing she would be in no mood to open a textbook that evening. “Maybe that Italian place you proposed last week before I vetoed it with the idea of cooking?”

“It’s a plan.”

Nick kissed her goodbye and continued on to his class. He slid into his usual seat in the second row and removed his notebook to take notes. He could taste Sabrina on his lips, even smell her floral perfume on his shirt.

He was walking a tightrope, unable to stay away from her, terrified to commit to her. He didn’t do commitment. He never had. Just the night before, a girl who was exactly his type had come into Dorian’s and set up at the bar to drink alone, much like Sabrina had the night he met her. He made small talk with her and she outright asked him if he wanted to go home with her, but he had politely turned her down, his thoughts on Sabrina. The girl had left her phone number on a napkin and tipped well when she left. He had tossed the napkin.

Sabrina wasn’t going to let him get away with stringing her along but for so long. She would want labels, to know where she stood with him. It scared him to think he might now be half of a couple without ever realizing it happened. But it also made him feel near nauseous to think of a day like today, seeing Sabrina on campus but not being able to walk up to her to and kiss her senseless like had had earlier.

As his professor called class to attention, he did his best to push those thoughts away and focus. But every once in a while, he would catch a wiff of Sabrina’s perfume and think of how she was one floor down, twirling her way through stress and worry over what her professor wanted.

He exhaled a big breath and again tried to focus.

And yet he was already anticipating how good it would be to spend the evening with her on his couch, her fitting into the crook of his arm like she was made specially to go there, a puzzle piece had never realized was missing. The idea of perhaps finding out just how flexible she really was appealed to him, too.

But not quite as much as the idea of simply being with her.

* * *

Nick tapped the answer button on his steering wheel.

“Hi, Grandma,” he greeted with the most casual tone he could come up with. He wasn’t in the mood for her, but he was well aware that there would be no avoiding her. She would simply continue to call until he answered.

“There’s my favorite grandson.”

“I’m your only grandson,” Nick reminded her like he always did.

“I suppose that makes you my favorite and least favorite grandson, then.” There was a beat of silence. Nick waited for the other shoe to drop. “You’re my least favorite right now.”

“Excellent,” Nick sighed.

“Michael is running out of patience with you, Nicholas.” She had her stern voice on this evening, and it seemed she was in no mood for small talk. “You’re running out of time and you’re being rather obnoxious about the whole thing.”

“I’m not being obnoxious. I’m taking my time…”

“You’re acting like a petulant child.”

“Grandma…”

“I’ve heard it before, Nicholas,” she cut him off. “I’m worried about you…”

“You don’t have to be,” Nick assured her, working to hold onto his patience. “I’m going to therapy, doing well in my classes…”

“Still working at that bar…”

“That too.” He pulled to a stop in his parking spot at Dorian’s. “I’m actually due to start my shift soon.”

“You shouldn’t be involved with that place, Nicholas.”

‘I’m fine, Grandma.”

“I’ve heard that before.” Nick sighed again.

“Grandma, please…”

“I’ll come to Greendale if I need to,” she warned him.

“I have no doubt that you would,” Nick said. Amalia Scratch was nothing if not true to her word. “But you don’t need to. I keep telling you, Grandma. I’m fine. I’m doing everything I’m supposed to do.”

“Except honor your parents’ last wishes.”

“Grandma…”

“Your parents loved you, Nicholas. They are probably rolling around in their graves right now…”

“They were cremated,” Nick reminded his grandmother in a dull tone. “They are literally on your mantle in the living room.”

“Another topic we need to discuss.”

“Not tonight.” The last thing Nick wanted to do was discuss where to spread his parents’ ashes. “I really need to get going, Grandma. I’ve got a few things to do before the bar opens.”

“I don’t approve,” she told him.

“I’m well aware.” He told her he loved her and would talk to her soon before he hung up. “Dammit,” he groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. He was well aware of what his parents wanted, both for their assets and their remains. He had spent months blatantly ignoring it, but he was running out of time. Still, that was for another day.

He was the first bartender to arrive, as per usual. Dorian was there, having his standard pre-opening drink.

“Ah, Scratch,” he greeted. “Ready for another night of fun?”

“I wouldn’t call it fun,” Nick said in an unamused tone.

“I know the answer, but I’ll ask anyway. Would you like a drink?” He held up a bottle of expensive bourbon.

“You know the answer,” Nick repeated.

“Such a good boy,” Dorian quipped.

“I’m not in the mood for it,” Nick warned.

“Someone showed up with a chip on his shoulder.”

“Dorian…”

“Trouble in Spellman paradise?” Dorian continued.

“Sabrina is fine.” Nick clocked in and immediately started moving the dishwasher rack of clean glasses Dorian had left on the bar top to their spot on the shelves below.

“Okay then, what’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Just a lot going on, Dorian,” Nick said. “Leave it alone.”

“You’re no fun when you’re bitter.”

“I’m not bitter. I’m annoyed with people questioning me.” He gave Dorian a pointed look. “I came to work, not talk about my feelings.” He had a therapist for that. He was aware of Dorian’s contemplative gaze. He ignored it and continued to work.

“Are you alright, Nicholas?” Dorian asked. “I’m being entirely serious right now.” Nick sighed.

“Like I said, there’s a lot on my mind.”

“You’ve had a rough year,” Dorian ventured, trying to get his old friend to talk. He was aware that he was often aloof, perceived as carefree. But there were a few people in his life he genuinely cared about. Nicholas Scratch was one of them. “If you need the night off…”

“No, I need to work,” Nick cut him off. “I need to stay busy.”

Dorian continued to consider him.

“I suddenly understand why you work so much,” he said. Nick didn’t say anything. Dorian took a long swell of his bourbon. “New topic. You and Sabrina? I can honestly say I saw that coming from the first night she stormed into this place demanding a drink. Can’t really blame you. She’s quite beautiful.”

“She is beautiful,” Nick agreed as he works. “But I’m not talking about her either.”

“I suppose our only topics for conversation are your studies and work then?” Dorian asked.

“That about sums it up,” Nick confirmed. Dorian sighed and downed the last of his drink.

“I’m aware that it goes against my usual demeanor, but if you need someone to talk to, Nicholas, I’m here.” He paused on his way into the back room. “For that matter, so is Sabrina. Trust me, dear boy, that girl is on your side – if you let her.”

When he was alone, Nick leaned on the bar and took a few deep breaths. He had told his grandmother the truth. He was doing okay for the most part. But once in a while, like today, things caught up with him and he found himself wondering how he allowed things to get to this point. But he was there and there was nothing he could do about it. He could only move forward.

With another sigh, he pushed away from the bar and went back to work.

Working would keep him busy.

And if he was busy, he wouldn’t slip again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sabrina - trying not to label things. 
> 
> Nick - really into her, terrified to commit to her, doesn't want to lose her. 
> 
> Sabrina - about to face off with her advocacy professor who is a real peach. 
> 
> Nick - also feeling the weight of whatever the heaven is going on with him and the hours he keeps. 
> 
> There's a lot at play here, for sure. Next update - Sabrina has a "hypothetical" conversation with Hilda. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this update - your comments, AMAZING!


	11. Stay Stay Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sabrina... Should she look? Or shouldn't she?

_You took the time to memorize me_   
_My fears, my hopes and dreams_   
_I just like hanging out with you_   
_All the time_

Sabrina tried not to fidget as she awaited Dr. Thurston’s response to her paper. She had been given two days to revise it after their meeting post Advocacy class and she had had to ask Nick for a raincheck on their evening together so she could devote herself to trying to improve it. Despite the hours she poured into it, her confidence in the paper was only mediocre, at best. She watched Dr. Thurston settle behind her desk. The woman reminded her of Zelda when Zelda was preparing to deliver her final blow.

“Well, Ms. Spellman, this was an interesting read.”

“Did I improve from the first attempt?” Sabrina worked hard to hold back her sarcasm.

“Marginally.”

Sabrina scoffed, abandoning her effort to be polite almost as soon as she started making it.

“I worked incredibly hard on that paper,” she informed Dr. Thurston. “I worked hard the first time, let alone the second time. I’ve barely slept in two days. What is so wrong with this one?”

“I don’t doubt that you worked hard,” Dr. Thurston said. “I doubt your passion and commitment to becoming a lawyer.” Sabrina frowned. “You’re not engaged, Ms. Spellman. This isn’t the first time I have had you in one of my classes. In fact, I think this is the third go around we have had together during your time as a law student. While you have shown flashes of being a decent lawyer, you have always lacked a certain desire that most of your classmates have. The ones that didn’t have that desire are no longer a part of this cohort.” The woman looked at her over her glasses. “And yet you remain.”

“I wouldn’t be a third-year law student if I didn’t want to be a lawyer…”

“Ms. Spellman, I saw more passion in you while you were kissing that boy outside the dance studio than I have ever seen from you in a classroom. You have a moment here and there where things look promising, as I have already said, but when you graduate and then sit the bar, you are committing to uphold the law. Our system has enough flaws without the added complexity of lawyers who lack passion for what they do.”

“What are you trying to say?” Sabrina challenged. “That I’m not cut out to be a lawyer?”

Dr. Thurston fixed her with a still more serious look.

“I am saying that you don’t want to be a lawyer.”

Sabrina stared. Nick had alluded to as much but hearing it from her professor hit differently. She opened her mouth to argue, to tell Dr. Thurston that she was wrong, that she only ever wanted to be a lawyer. Except the words didn’t come. She closed her mouth and sat back in her chair.

“I’m sure you think I’m a wicked witch,” Dr. Thurston continued in a no-nonsense tone. “And perhaps I am. But I also care deeply about the word of law, about our legal system, and those chosen to uphold it. I do think you are an intelligent woman. And you do have a certain passion for injustice. But I do not see you sitting in an office late into the night, finding a way to help your client or else arguing your case before a courtroom. You are too free spirited, and dare I say it, perhaps too righteous, to join the ranks of power suits and legal briefs.”

In that moment, Sabrina could see her point clearly. When she envisioned herself down the road, she didn’t see herself sitting behind a table in a courtroom in uncomfortable clothing. She didn’t have enough fingers to count the number of times she had disagreed with one of the cases they studied in class, although according to her professors, the letter of the law was followed exactly. She loathed most of her classes, pushing through them by telling herself that it was ‘just a class’ and part of a bigger goal. She liked the idea of helping people win against those who had wronged them, but there were other ways to accomplish that. She didn’t know what she saw for herself down the road, but she did know one thing.

She didn’t see herself as a lawyer.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked Dr. Thurston. “I’m two and a half years into this thing…”

“You have to decide if you truly want to be a lawyer,” Dr. Thurston said. “It’s quite simple, Sabrina.” She opened a drawer and produced her paper. “In the meantime, here is your paper.”

Sabrina accepted the several pages of work she had poured herself into. She had been given a ‘C+’ despite the work she had put into it not once, but twice. She sighed and let it fall into her lap.

“Is that all?” she asked.

“It is,” Dr. Thurston agreed. “You’re dismissed.”

Sabrina left the office feeling defeated. She had derailed her life seven months ago by ending her engagement and now, here she was, being told she should consider not being a lawyer and actually considering it. Nick had hinted at the same thing, but if she quit now, what would she do? She thought of her aunts and was sure they would be disappointed in her. She didn’t want to be a lawyer but – could she quit now?

Before she realized where she was, she was at the dance studio door. She made up her mind on the spot and went to the locker room. She had a change of clothing in her bag and she made quick work of changing into them. It was like her body breathed a sigh of relief when she removed the tights, skirt, and blouse she had worn to class that day in an effort to look decent for her meeting with Dr. Thurston. Her leggings, sports bra, and tank top felt like a familiar skin.

In the studio, she set the music to shuffle and began to move. She danced through several songs, until she was breathless and sweaty. But she felt better, lighter. She gave it a few minutes for heart rate to come down and her breath to slow before she pulled on an oversized sweater, swept her sweaty hair back into a half knot, and left campus. Again, she didn’t think. She steered her car in the direction it wanted to go and a few minutes later, she was at Dorian’s.

She spied Nick right away. He was behind the bar, slicing a lemon, the place still quiet, the Thursday evening too early for a crowd. She drew his eye and he smiled in greeting. She couldn’t help but smile back. She realized in that moment that he was who she wanted. He was who she had thought of to go to for comfort. She slid onto a stool in front of him. His critical eye was on her.

“Tough day?” he asked.

“Tough day,” she confirmed. “Make me a drink?”

Nick considered her for a moment, then nodded. Without a word, he turned away. Within the minute, he placed a glass of red wine in front of her.

“You look like you could use comfort,” he explained. “Red wine feels right.”

“It’s perfect,” she assured him, recognizing that he was correct. “You have a gift for knowing exactly what kind of drink a girl needs in any given situation.”

“Call it my party trick,” Nick quipped. He leaned on the counter in front of her. “Want to tell me what happened?”

It was reminiscent of the night they met, Nick leaning on the bar, asking her to tell him her problems. The only difference was that she had sought him out and was upset tonight instead of wound tight the way she had when she stormed into both the bar and his life two months ago.

“That paper I had to re-write?” she asked.

“The one that kept you from curling up on my couch with me?”

“That’s the one,” Sabrina confirmed. “She gave me a ‘C+’ but as much as that stung, it wasn’t the kicker. She told me that she doesn’t think I want to be a lawyer.” She watched Nick purse his lips to keep from agreeing. “Honestly? I think she might be right. And you. Which is super annoying.”

“I do like to be right,” Nick quipped. “Why does she suggest that you may not want to be a lawyer?”

“She says I lack the passion,” Sabrina shared. “She doesn’t see me as meant to wear power suits and sit in courtrooms.”

Nick agreed. Sabrina was a lot of things, but he had a hard time picturing her standing before a courtroom arguing her case, no matter how righteous and quick to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves she seemed to be.

“Is she right?” Nick asked bluntly. Sabrina sighed.

“She might be,” she confessed. “But Nick, I would be walking away from two and a half years of work…”

“Say you finish your third year,” he started. “Then you sit the bar. You pass, because I know you would.” She smiled a bit at his faith in her. “You are then destined to spend the next twenty or thirty years, at least, as a lawyer. Do you really, truly want to spend the next three decades of your life defending the law?” Sabrina opened her mouth to argue. Nick held up his hand. “No. Don’t answer right now. I’m not the one that needs an answer anyway. You are.”

Sabrina felt pretty sure she knew what her answer was. But it would throw her life into disarray and she needed to sit with what that meant. As Nick had rightly pointed out, she needed to take some time to truly consider the question – did she want to be a lawyer? – and answer it for herself.

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” she asked Nick.

“I just know what drink to make,” he replied. She smiled at him. He winked at her and walked away to help someone else. She watched him work for a while, sipping her wine and keeping her thoughts contained to what was right in front of her instead of the overwhelming decision she needed to make. When her glass was empty, she had another bartender close her tab, then waited for Nick to free up again. “Another glass?” he asked.

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m going to go home and wallow, but I wanted to tell you goodbye.”

Nick considered her. She looked worn out, stressed. He reached into his pocket, took out his keys, and removed his apartment key. He held it out to her.

“Why don’t you go to my place and wait for me?” he proposed. “I opened, so I’m out of here around ten or so. Make yourself at home, watch some TV… Stay with me tonight.”

“Really?” Sabrina asked, even as she took the key. She couldn’t think of anywhere else she would rather go.

“Unless you want to go home and face your aunts who will sense that something is wrong and ask you a bunch of questions you might not want to answer yet.”

“I guess I’ll see you when you get home then,” Sabrina decided. Nick gave her his half smile. “Thank you, Nick.”

“I’m starting to think I might do anything for you,” he replied with complete honestly. He leaned across the bar and kissed her quickly. “I should be there around ten-thirty or so.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

She walked away and Nick watched her go.

He had just given a girl the key to his apartment.

That was monumental in his world.

He really was willing to do just about anything for Sabrina Spellman.

* * *

Sabrina let herself into Nick’s apartment and fumbled to find the light switch. When she didn’t find one on the wall, she relied on the dim light coming in from the streetlights outside to turn on a nearby lamp. Once her eyes adjusted, she realized there wasn’t an overhead light in the living area. She dropped her bag on the couch and stood for a moment, looking around.

It was messier than the first time she was there. A few boxes were still stacked along the wall. A couple had been opened and left half-emptied on the floor. Still, there were fewer boxes than there had been before. A sweatshirt was tossed over an armchair and there was a bowl and a glass on the counter. Nick’s messenger bag he carried around campus was perched precariously on a barstool.

Sabrina wandered towards the kitchen, intent on getting something to drink. She opened his fridge and chuckled a bit. It was what she imagined a typical bachelor’s fridge to be, mostly empty but with a carton of milk, a half full jug of orange juice, some lunch meat, and leftovers.

She closed the fridge and opened a nearby cabinet. It held cereal, pasta, instant rice, things she imagined Nick could cook. It took her two more cabinets before she found a glass. She filled it at the sink and then turned to go back into the living room, noting how weird it was to be there without Nick. She sat down on the couch and looked around for the remote control. She spied it on the coffee table, on top of a stack of papers.

Legal documents.

She wanted to look.

She really really wanted to look.

She wanted to know if Nick was in any sort of trouble and if he were, if she could help. But it wasn’t her place. She had often been accused as putting her nose into places it didn’t belong – with good reason – and she didn’t want to disrespect Nick. If he wanted her to know what those paper held, he would tell her.

With some effort, she sat back on the couch and turned on the television. She settled on a rerun of a sitcom and got comfortable. Still, her mind did gymnastics as it considered how Nick didn’t talk much about his past, how he had so many “rules” that he referenced often. She trusted her instincts that told her he wasn’t a bad guy, but she believed there was something more to him that he wasn’t forthcoming about. She balled up her fist to keep from reaching for the papers and forced herself to focus on the television. Her busy thoughts and the sheer exhaustion from the day lulled her to sleep.

“Spellman.”

A soft touch worked through her hair. She hummed in satisfaction.

“Wake up, Spellman.”

Sabrina’s eyes blinked open to Nick, perched on the edge of the couch, running his hand through her hair to wake her up. She smiled at him.

“Hey,” she greeted sleepily.

“Hey,” he replied with a soft smile. “Sorry I’m a bit later than expected.”

“What time is it?” she wondered.

“Eleven,” Nick answered. “The bar was busy, and it took me a longer to get away.” His hand continued to work through her hair. “You look comfortable.”

“I kind of am,” she admitted. Nick leaned down and kissed her sweetly.

“I kind of like this,” he confessed, “coming home to find you on my couch.”

“You’re not a bad sight to wake up to, even if I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” She sat up and stretched her arms overhead. “You look tired, Scratch.”

“I am,” Nick admitted. “I wouldn’t hate it if you wanted to go from the couch to the bed.”

“I wouldn’t hate that either,” Sabrina confirmed.

Nick stood, Sabrina’s hand in his. She followed him but glanced at the coffee table on their way out of the room. The papers were gone. She bit her lip so she wouldn’t ask him about them.

In the bedroom, Nick gave her another one of his t-shirts to sleep in and offered her the bathroom first. She found he had kept her toothbrush. She made quick work of the bathroom, then got into bed to wait for Nick. When he came back, she tried not to stare. Even sleepy, he looked more like he was cut from marble and less like a mortal in his boxer briefs.

“Want to know how tired I am?” he asked as he got into bed with her. “You’re looking at me like that, you’re in my bed, wearing my t-shirt, and I don’t even have it in me to try and convince you to sleep with me.”

“I do plan to sleep with you,” Sabrina teased, rolling onto her side to face him.

“You know what I mean,” he retorted with a smile.

“I suppose there’s always tomorrow morning.”

“Mmm,” Nick hummed as he reached for her. “Don’t tease me.”

“Is it a tease if it’s a promise?” she wondered as she settled into his arms. Again, Nick noted how it seemed like she simply fit there. He felt the ever more familiar desire to want to both run away and hold her closer. He swallowed down his rumble of fears and turned off the lamp, pitching them into darkness.

“Nick?” Sabrina asked once she was comfortable.

“Sabrina?”

“Tell me something about yourself.”

Nick frowned at the question.

“Tell you something about myself?”

“Anything,” she encouraged. “What was your favorite thing to do when you were a kid?”

“Read,” he answered. “I could sit in my bedroom and read for hours.”

“Did you play any sports?” Sabrina continued.

“Baseball. I played all the way through high school. I wasn’t the best, but I wasn’t the worst on the team either.”

“What did your parents teach?”

“Why all the questions?” Nick countered.

“I’m just trying to know you better,” she said honestly. “You’re a hard book to read.”

“You know me,” Nick said. He reasoned she knew him better than most people.

“I know some things,” Sabrina agreed. “But I want to know more.” She lifted her head and even in the dark, he could see her eyes. “I want to know you.”

He nearly confessed everything. He nearly told her his whole story, right then and there, just because she was looking at him with that sweet, honest, expression. But the words failed, replaced by fear that he would change her mind about him.

“History and biology,” Nick shared. “My mom taught history, my dad taught biology.” Sabrina smiled at him in the dark.

“It kind of makes sense that you’re an anthropologist. History and science… Doesn’t that all go together with anthropology?”

“I never really thought about that,” Nick confessed. “But you’re not wrong.” He pulled her back down to his chest. “Did you play any sports, Spellman? Or was it all dance, all the time?”

“I tried soccer when I was seven,” she told him. “Roz and Harvey were playing, so I wanted to play too. I absolutely hated it. Hilda told me I could quit, but Zelda wouldn’t allow it. She said I committed to something, so I had to stick it out.”

“That seems about right,” Nick mused. It explained a bit about her reluctance to give up a career she clearly wasn’t passionate about, too.

“I didn’t realize at the time that I was going to have to give up a jazz class to make soccer practice. I rioted when I heard that. Soccer was never going to work for me.”

Nick chuckled and rubbed her back. His eyes were heavy with sleep.

“How about we table this inquisition of yours for tonight?” he proposed.

“Okay,” Sabrina agreed. “One more question?”

“Fine.”

“Favorite candy?”

“Reese’s,” Nick answered. “M&Ms. Skittles. Snickers. Basically all of it.”

“You have a sweet tooth,” Sabrina observed. “Me too.”

“What’s your favorite candy?”

“Gummies,” she told him. “All of them.”

“Duly noted.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Go to sleep, Spellman.”

“Fine, Scratch,” she agreed. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Another kiss, this time to her forehead. “Sleep well.”

He fell asleep fast, unlike his usual routine of lying awake, staring at the ceiling or else tossing and turning as he tried to shut off his brain. Sabrina, however, lay awake for a while, her earlier nap keeping her from falling asleep as easily as Nick had. She watched him sleep, noted how his brow furrowed at one point. She wondered if he were having a bad dream.

She wondered what, exactly, he was so intent on not telling her.

* * *

“Ah, there you are,” Hilda greeted as Sabrina entered the kitchen. “Seems Ambrose isn’t the only one that doesn’t come home now.” She raised her eyebrow at Sabrina in a pointed manner.

“I stayed at Nick’s last night,” she admitted because there was no point in denying it. “I had a bit of a rough day and he was trying to cheer me up.”

“And did he?” Again, her eyebrow was raised.

“Auntie…”

“Oh Sabrina, don’t act like I didn’t take you to get birth control pills,” Hilda waved her hand. “I know you’ve been having sex since you were eighteen.”

“Oh my God…” Sabrina muttered. She stood in the kitchen for a moment, debating how hungry she actually was. If she was going to have to endure Hilda questioning her sex life, she might be willing to starve a while longer.

“Hungry? Hilda asked. “I’ve got a loaf of bread fresh from the oven. It’s a bit early for lunch, but I can make you a sandwich all the same.”

“I need something stronger than a sandwich,” Sabrina stated.

“Chocolate cake then?” Hilda countered. “Baked it last night. Cee’s dessert request.”

“Ice cream, too?”

“Must have been a really bad day,” Hilda mused. “Have a seat, dear.” Sabrina did so while Hilda bustled around the kitchen. She had long ago given up trying to stop Hilda from serving her when she was perfectly capable of making her own food. Mothering was what she did, to anyone who happened to cross her threshold. “Did Nicholas do something?”

“No,” Sabrina shook her head. “Nick is – wonderful.”

He had woken her up a few hours ago with his intentions very clear. She had sent him off to campus grinning from ear to ear while she driven off to the mortuary feeling properly satisfied – until the previous day caught up with her.

“Then what’s the problem, love?”

Sabrina had to talk to her aunts sooner or later, and Hilda was certainly the lesser of two evils.

“Hypothetically speaking,” she began, “if someone spent their entire life – painting. They painted six, seven days a week. They loved it. They were good at it. But this person also had a knack for…” she searched for a comparison, “healing. They were always playing doctor and putting bandages on people. Everyone said ‘you’ll grow up to be a doctor one day’ to them. They grabbed ahold of that idea and they end up in med school. They still paint sometimes, but not as much as they would like to. But then, one day, they start to think ‘hey, maybe I don't want to be a doctor…’ but they only got a semester left and while they’re not sure they want to be a doctor anymore, they sort of feel obligated to be a doctor after all the time and work, not to mention money, that went into it. What would you suggest that person do?”

“So you want to quit law school and dance then?” Hilda asked as she placed a plate of cake and ice cream in front of Sabrina.

“What?” Sabrina said. “No… I said…”

“Oh please,” Hilda cut her off and joined her at the table with her own plate. “You could have disguised your rambling hypothetical dilemma a bit better. ‘Doctor’ and ‘painter.’ Really, Sabrina. You forget I survived your teenage years.” Sabrina gave her a look, well aware that she had given her aunts a run for their money as a teen. She hadn’t exactly gone easy on them in her twenties either, all things considered. “Well, what are you going to do?”

“I’m asking you,” Sabrina informed her. “What should I do?”

“I can’t make that decision for you, love. But I will say this – I’ve expected this conversation for a long time.”

“You have?”

“I have,” Hilda confirmed. “I never said you should be a lawyer.”

“Everyone said…”

“I didn’t,” Hilda cut her off. “Zelda? Frequently. Ambrose? Often enough, in jest. Me? Not once. Do I think you would be a wonderful lawyer? I do. I think you would be wonderful at anything you put your mind to. But are you sure you are a suit in the courtroom kind of woman, Sabrina?”

“I think I’m a leotard in the dance studio kind of woman,” Sabrina confessed. She groaned and dropped her head to the table. “What am I going to do, Aunt Hilda?”

“You’re going to follow your heart,” Hilda said simply. “You always have. It hasn’t steered you wrong in the past.”

“It steered me right into an engagement I should have never agreed to,” Sabrina reminded Hilda. “I should have ended my relationship with Harvey well before it got to engaged status.”

“I would argue that your heart is what got you there in the first place,” Hilda said. “You didn’t want to hurt him which, in the end, you still did, but you did try to make him happy.”

“Not helping,” Sabrina grumbled. She stabbed her cake with her fork.

“Think about it like this. You were nearly down the aisle when you realized Harvey wasn’t right for you and I think we can both agree that things ended up rather messy.”

“To say the least.”

“Do you want to go down the road of becoming a lawyer because you think that you should, only to realize ten or so years from now that you’re miserable?”

“No,” Sabrina admitted, seeing the parallel Hilda drew for her quite clearly. “I just… Two-and-a-half years, Hilda. Two-and-a-half years of my life I’ve been studying to be a lawyer. How can I just – quit?”

“I imagine you tell your advisor you want to quit and that’s that,” Hilda said simply.

“But what would I do?” Sabrina wondered. “I quit law school and then what, Hilda? Assuming a best case scenario in which Zelda doesn’t kill me, of course.”

“Zelda won’t kill you,” Hilda said. “She might be a little miffed at first, but she just wants you to be happy. And I say, if you want to dance, you should dance.”

Sabrina considered that idea. She had danced her entire life. She didn’t really want to be a professional dancer, but she had taught a few dance classes over the years and had always loved that. She liked choreographing. She could figure it out. Maybe.

“I’ll think about it,” she said. “This cake is incredible by the way.”

“Of course it is.” Hilda chewed a bite of her own. “So – you and Nicholas?”

“We’re back on that topic now.”

“I’m just wondering. You’ve spent the night with him a couple of times. I have only met him a few times, but he seems lovely.”

“He is,” Sabrina confessed. “He just seems more – mature. Not that Harvey was immature…” She still felt like she needed to defend him. “Nick has this way about him. He feels so steady, so secure. And he’s so smart, Hilda. Like, annoyingly smart. He might even be smarter than Ambrose.”

“Don’t dare tell Ambrose that,” Hilda near pleaded. “It’ll be his academic debate team from his senior year all over again.”

“I’m not stupid, Hilda,” Sabrina stated. She vividly remembered the absolute war between Ambrose and a kid from Riverdale whose intelligence rivaled his. Ambrose had spent weeks studying and insisting they all quiz him at all hours of the day and night, meals included, ahead of their face off. “But Nick… He treats me well. He’s considerate, kind. I think he’s hiding something, though, and I don’t know how to ask him about it.”

“Why do you think that?” Hilda wondered.

“Just things he says. He has all of these rules that he says I’m breaking…”

“Sounds like he was hurt in the past,” Hilda observed. Sabrina shook her head.

“He says he’s never had a girlfriend – or a boyfriend for that matter.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Hilda mused. “I’ve only met him those few times, but that young man is boyfriend material.”

“Right?” Sabrina exclaimed, glad someone saw it her way. “That’s what I said.” She sighed. “He’s so good to me. He always knows just the right thing to say, the right drink to make. He’s been hinting around for weeks that I didn’t really want to be a lawyer, saying that I should dance. He just doesn’t want to talk about anything from his past. It was all I could do to get it out of him that he played baseball growing up.”

“Well, love, not everyone is as open of a book as you are,” Hilda reminded her. “Perhaps Nicholas simply doesn’t like to talk about himself.”

“Maybe.” Sabrina scooped up the last of her ice cream.

“You like this boy,” Hilda observed.

“I do,” Sabrina admitted. “I really do.”

“New career, new boyfriend,” Hilda mused. “Things are looking up for you, Sabrina.”

“I haven’t made any final decisions about school and Nick and I haven’t put any labels around what we are,” Sabrina reminded her aunt.

“So you say,” Hilda hummed. She wasn’t clairvoyant, but she could see where Sabrina was heading with utter clarity. “Follow your heart, Sabrina. But more than that, trust it. You always know the right answer.”

Sabrina finished off her cake in companionable silence, then disappeared to her bedroom. She collapsed on her bed, thinking of all the homework she had, the papers she needed to write, the exams she needed to study for.

Or, she didn’t.

She could drop out of law school.

She could dance.

She could never have to write an advocacy paper again.

She could ask Nicholas Scratch what he was hiding from her.

She could let it all go and see what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Thurston spared no words for Sabrina - and Sabrina is finally reconsidering her devotion to law school. Don't we all wish we had a handsome bartender to run through after a bad day? 
> 
> She didn't look at those papers. This Sabrina has recognized her reckless ways. For now... 
> 
> And don't we all need an Aunt Hilda talk? Good try, Sabrina. 
> 
> Next update... Trouble in paradise? 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this one! Your comments are all the praise hands!


	12. Cornelia Street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Taylor Swift for giving us a whole new album. Look for a few of the 'folklore' titles in coming chapters. 
> 
> Also, if you don't enjoy reading explicit scenes... Skip ahead once Sabrina lets Nick into her bedroom as this might be the spiciest scene I've written between the two. (Hides behind hands and hopes her grandmother never reads this).
> 
> But Taylor is dropping F bombs now, so if you're old enough for that... Shrugs.

_But then you called, showed your hand_   
_I turned around before I hit the tunnel_   
_Sat on the roof, you and I_

Sabrina smiled to herself when she spied Nick behind the bar, his textbook open, his hand shoved into his hair as he leaned on the bar. He was wearing glasses, a look he had never seen before but she quite liked.

“Marx must be fascinating,” she said as she approached. Nick looked up and smiled when he noticed her.

“I’m studying language as a structured system, actually,” he replied. “Phonology to be exact.”

“That does sound enthralling.” She slid onto the stool in front of him. “What is phonology anyway?”

“It’s a branch of linguistics focused on the systematic organization of sounds in spoken languages and signs in sign languages.”

“So – phonetics?” Sabrina said, once more both surprised by and attracted to Nick’s level of intelligence.

“Not exactly.” Nick folded his arms on the bar. “Phonology studies the sounds in a language and across languages. It’s concerned with the abstract while phonetics is concerned with the physical properties of sound.”

Sabrina smiled at him. She didn’t fully follow what he said, but she was impressed all the same.

“I kind of like it when you go all nerd on me, Scratch.”

Nick chuckled and took her in. She was dressed down, wearing minimal makeup. She looked a little tired, and like she was trying to hide it.

“You okay, Spellman?” he asked.

Sabrina exhaled. She had been drawn to find Nick to tell him her news. No one else knew yet but telling him first felt like the right thing. She was grateful that it was Monday and that the bar was virtually empty so she didn’t have to wait for his attention.

“I did something today,” she started. Nick waited, eyes on her. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, then released it. “I withdrew from school.”

Nick’s eyes widened.

“You quit?” he clarified.

“Withdrew,” Sabrina corrected. “It sounds better than ‘quit.’ And yes, I did.”

“Good,” Nick nodded with a soft smile. “You’re brilliant, Spellman, but you’re not meant to be a lawyer, no matter how good I think you would be at it.” His vote of confidence in her gave her a little more confidence in herself and her decision.

“”That’s not all,” she continued. “After I officially withdrew, I went to the dance school I have danced at my entire life and asked if I could teach. I thought I was going to have to argue my case, Lolly, the owner, hired me before I could finish my speech.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “It was a really good speech, too.”

“I’m sure it was,” Nick said with a grin. He would expect nothing less from the girl who didn’t want to be a lawyer but said she liked her advocacy class. “This Lolly person obviously sees what I see.”

“Which is?”

Nick reached across the bar and brushed his fingertips over her hand.

“A woman meant to be in a dance studio.”

“I feel like I’ve wrecked my life, yet again,” Sabrina confessed, letting him see a very real fear. “But it also feels a lot less scary this time. When I ended my engagement, I didn’t know what would happen. As big and scary as this is, things feel a little more settled this time all the same.”

“What did it feel like when you broke things off with Harry?” Nick wondered. Sabrina gave him a look. He couldn’t help but grin sheepishly. Harvey had never actually done anything to him, but the awkward farm boy had nearly married Sabrina and that was enough for him to dislike the guy.

“I felt really certain about my choice not to marry Harvey,” she told him. “I had been thinking about calling things off for a while, but it wasn’t real until I gave him back his ring. When I walked out of our apartment, I realized I had no idea what was coming next. The future I had planned was wiped away in a matter of minutes.”

Nick understood that all too well. He had felt similar when his parents died.

“Quitting law school… It’s not that it’s not scary, but I have dance. It feels like I’m sort of coming home.” She made a face. “That was cheesy.”

“It was,” Nick agreed. “But it was also true.”

“Zelda is going to kill me,” she said.

“The aunts don’t know yet?”

“You’re the first one I’ve told,” Sabrina confessed. “I knew you would be supportive.”

“Always,” he promised her. They traded a sweet smile. “Need a drink?” Sabrina shook her head.

“Not tonight. I just…” she shrugged, “wanted to see you.”

Nick felt warm inside. He had never been the person someone came to for comfort or to share a big life moment. He thought he might like the role. He pushed off the counter tilted his head to the end of the counter.

“Meet me down there, Spellman.”

“Why?” she asked curiously, even as she slid off her stool.

“Just do it.”

Sabrina kept her eyes on him as they walked to the end of the bar, separated by the bar itself. He smirked at her curious expression. When they reached the end, Nick took her by the hand and pulled her to him for a hug.

“I’m proud of you, Sabrina.”

Sabrina hugged him tighter and blinked back tears. She was terrified of what the future held in some ways, her career plans no longer clear, her days and nights suddenly far more open, yet it really did feel okay, especially with Nick’s arms around her.

“I’m scared,” she confessed into his chest. “Of both what comes next and of telling Zelda.”

“It’s okay to be scared.” He reminded himself of that fact as he held her and continued to lean into the role of being the supportive boyfriend. “But I think you’re doing the right thing. You’re doing what’s going to make you happy. Even Zelda will see that – it just might take her some time.”

“You really do always know what to say,” Sabrina observed.

“If only that were true.” He gave her a kiss, a sweet, gentle one, the kind he sensed she needed. “You sure you don’t want a drink?”

“Maybe a coffee?” Sabrina chanced. She knew Dorian had an espresso machine behind the bar that was put into use towards the end of the night when people saw the need to begin to sober up.

“I can do that.” He kissed her again, then let her go. Sabrina returned to her stool. Nick turned on the espresso machine. “Regular coffee or fancy coffee?”

“Surprise me.” She pulled his textbook to her. The words were small and packed in tight. She read a few lines and decided that linguistics or whatever Nick was studying would be best left to him. She pushed the book back across the bar.

“Given your big news, I thought fancy coffee was in order.” Nick placed a latte in front of her. “Fair warning – I’m not nearly as good at caffeinated drinks as I am alcoholic ones.” Sabrina took a sip.

“It will do,” she determined. He chuckled. She considered him and decided to ask a question she thought she knew the answer to. “You don’t drink, do you?”

“No,” Nick admitted. His eyes darted away, but he brought them right back to her. “Not anymore, at least.” Sabrina didn’t push further, and Nick was grateful for that. Still, he wanted to offer something. He thought he had to. “I got tired of waking up hungover.”

“That’s how you knew about the peanut butter and banana toast,” Sabrina mentioned.

“The carbs and potassium help your body absorb the alcohol,” Nick confirmed. “The Tylenol and the water are self-explanatory.” A couple walked up to the bar a few spaces down. Nick glanced their way, then back to Sabrina. “I’ll be right back.”

She watched him work, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair perfectly in place. He looked as handsome as ever, but she thought he looked his best when he was in his own space, relaxed, his hair a little messy, he smile lazy. That version of him felt like it was reserved just for her.

“That latte still okay?” he asked when he returned.

“It is,” she confirmed. She spun the cup in her hands and looked at him hopefully. “What if I… spent the night with you tonight?”

Nick had to stop himself from saying yes on the spot. He had an eight o’clock therapy appointment and Sabrina knew he didn’t start classes until late morning on Tuesdays. He didn’t want to have to explain his early morning start.

“As much as I want to say absolutely, I’m going to have to ask for a raincheck.” He leaned on the bar and fought off the way he was tempted to give in by the disappointment she was working to hide. “I’ve got a really early start tomorrow – doctor’s appointment – and I need to get some homework done for tomorrow when I get home tonight.”

It wasn’t a total lie. He did have a doctor’s appointment and he did have an assignment to finish before his afternoon class the next day.

“You’re going to send me home to face my aunts?” Sabrina asked. “Hilda will be supportive – she’s been waiting for me to do this apparently – but Zelda… Well, if I don’t reply to your texts tomorrow, call the police and be sure to remind them my aunts live in a mortuary. Zelda has the means to hide a body.”

“Zelda won’t kill you,” Nick promised. “If she tries, grab ahold of that smoking stick of hers, threaten to break it until she lets you go, then call me. I’ll come running – even if I have to turn in my assignment late and go to my appointment on next to no sleep.”

“Fair enough,” Sabrina sighed. She had wanted to stay with him not only to avoid her aunts, but to just – be with him. She felt a faint sting of rejection, but she let it go. Nick had given her no indication that he didn’t want her around, all things considered. “I should probably go face the music anyway. The longer I put it off, the worse it's going to be.”

“I just realized that I won’t get to walk in on you dancing between classes,” he said.

“Never say never,” Sabrina quipped. She took out her wallet to pay for her latte. Nick closed his hand over hers and pushed it back towards her. “Nick…”

“Celebratory drink,” he said. “You’re a dancer now.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. He leaned over the bar to kiss her goodbye. “Maybe I could make you dinner again this week?”

“How about Wednesday?” Nick proposed. “I work tomorrow night, but how about you cook dinner, I do the dishes, and then we… See how much of a movie we can actually get through?”

“You still haven’t found out just how flexible I am,” Sabrina teased. Nick groaned.

“You’re teasing me, Spellman.” She winked as she slid off the stool. “Text me later?”

“I will,” she promised. “Bye Nick.”

He watched her walk away, a small smile on his face, aware that he was completely taken with her, whether he wanted to be or not.

“Spellman?” She turned back to him with a raised eyebrow. “I really am proud of you.”

His words seemed to light her up. She practically glowed. She held her hands out and did a neat pirouette, her small crossbody purse flying wildly. He laughed. She blew him a flirty kiss and left the bar. Nick checked in on the bar’s few patrons, then went back to studying. His mind was on his work, but he was pretty sure at least part of his heart had left with Sabrina Spellman.

And he had no say in the matter.

* * *

“Good morning, love,” Hilda greeted as Sabrina walked into the kitchen.

“Morning, auntie,” Sabrina replied. She sat down at the table and reached for the carafe of coffee. Zelda peered around her paper with a critical eye.

“Is that what you’re wearing to class?” She somehow managed to look over the top of her glasses and down her nose at the same time. “I know college students these days prefer the homeless chic look, but I thought pajama day was surely a thing of high school spirit weeks gone by.”

“I am still in my pajamas,” Sabrina acknowledged. She had managed to slip past her aunts the night before, but she needed to just rip the bandage off and give them her latest life update. “I’m not going to class today.”

“Oh?” Zelda lowered her paper slightly. “Skipping, are we?”

“Or… Not going?” Sabrina ventured. “Ever again?”

A beat of silence hung over the kitchen. It was enough for Ambrose to enter.

“Morning, Spellman ladies,” he greeted jovially. He fell into the last chair at the table. “I really don’t know why I don’t sleep here more often. Look at this spread, on a random Tuesday at that. Absolutely delightful, Auntie Hilda.”

“You’re just in time for Sabrina to explain to us why she’s apparently never going to school again,” Zelda informed him.

“Oh?” Ambrose raised an eyebrow as he poured coffee. “Do tell, cousin.”

“Why don’t I just… Put this coffee over here… Make some room on the table…” Hilda swooped in and took the hot coffee from Ambrose, sensing what Sabrina was about to announce and certain Zelda wouldn't react favorably. She purposefully knocked the knife at Zelda’s place setting to the floor. “Oh dear! I’ll get that, fetch you a new one…” Zelda looked after Hilda with a puzzled expression as she bustled away.

“This family…” She shook her head and brought her attention back to her niece. “Well, Sabrina? Do enlighten us. Why are you wearing what you slept in to the breakfast table with claims that you won’t ever be attending class again?”

Sabrina took a breath and sat up to her full height. She was directly across from Zelda and while she was hyper aware of Ambrose listening intently and Hilda nervously standing nearby, still holding the coffee carafe, it was Zelda she was worried about.

“I withdrew from school yesterday.”

The only sound that filled the space was the loud scrape of Ambrose’s chair as he pushed back from the table in a rush. He joined Hilda, content to be a spectator. Or perhaps, a witness.

“I don’t believe I heard you correctly,” Zelda said. “You did what now?”

“I withdrew from school,” Sabrina repeated. “I don’t want to be a lawyer, Aunt Zelda. Not really. I know what it looks like…”

“It looks like you threw away nearly three years of work,” Zelda stated. She folded the paper and tossed it aside. “Go upstairs and get dressed. I’m taking you to campus and we’ll rectify this, tell them you had a moment of insanity. I’m sure you’re not the first person who succumbed to the stress of law school.”

“I’m not going back to school, auntie,” Sabrina insisted. “I’m going to teach dance at the Greendale School of Dance. I start tomorrow.”

“You’re going to teach dance,” Zelda said. “My heavens, Sabrina! Teaching poorly coordinated toddlers is not a career!”

“But it could be,” Sabrina argued. “You know I love to dance, Aunt Zelda. I all but gave it up over the last couple of years with school and Harvey and all, but it’s always been the one thing I love to do, the one thing I know I’m good at.”

“Oh I don’t know, Sabrina, you are quite good at causing me unprecedented levels of anxiety.”

“I know you’re mad, Aunt Zee…”

“Poor choice of words,” Ambrose muttered to Hilda.

“You’d think she would have learned by now,” Hilda uttered back.

“Mad?” Zelda repeated indignantly. “Why Sabrina, yes, yes I am mad. I raised you to be a strong, independent woman and here you are, trying to tell me you’re going to dance your life away. Literally.”

“It’s my choice,” Sabrina argued. “If I don’t want to be a lawyer, I’m not going to be a lawyer. And I do not want to be a lawyer. Even my professor told me I didn’t want to be a lawyer. Rather, she told me I shouldn’t be, because I lack passion.”

“All you are is passion,” Zelda pointed out. “Misguided, more often than not, but you are full of passion, for better or worse.”

“And for the immediate future, I will be channeling my passion into dance,” Sabrina said firmly. She glanced at Ambrose and Hilda. Ambrose had acquired a plate of bacon and was eating it like popcorn. He offered Hilda the plate. She took a piece, the coffee still in her other hand, and nibbled. Sabrina shook her head in annoyance at their lack of support. “I know you think I’m throwing away my future,” she told Zelda. “But I know what I’m doing.”

“I seem to remember you saying that when I questioned your decision to marry the Kinkle boy,” Zelda reminded her. “My prediction proved to be correct, did it not?”

“We’re not talking about Harvey,” Sabrina said. “You can sit there all you want and tell me how wrong I am, but I’m an adult. You can’t make me go back to school.”

There was a stare down.

“Who do you have?” Ambrose asked Hilda.

“My bet is on Zelda in this one,” Hilda replied. “I knew she wouldn’t take this well.”

“You knew?” Ambrose asked, momentarily surprised.

“I had a hunch,” Hilda wasn’t willing to divulge her conversation with Sabrina, at least not in front of Zelda when the news was fresh. Ambrose shrugged.

“No matter. She’s making the right choice. I’ll take Sabrina. She seems pretty set on this and we know she can outlast Zelda.”

“What’s the bet?” Hilda wondered.

“You win, I’ll do the dishes for a week. I win, you’ll make me my favorite cake.”

“Easy enough,” Hilda nodded.

The clock struck eight.

Zelda lifted her napkin from her desk and tossed it to the table with a fair amount of aggression.

“I have to get to the Academy,” she informed Sabrina. “But this is absolutely not over, young lady.” She stormed out of the kitchen, her dress trailing behind her like a cape. Sabrina looked to Ambrose and Hilda.

“Neither of you won,” she informed them. “You heard Zelda – this isn’t over.”

“She’s probably going to dig your grave on her lunch break,” Ambrose said, coming back to the table now that the coast was clear. “You really quit law school, cousin?”

“Withdrew,” Sabrina corrected. “Yes.”

“Good.” Ambrose heaped eggs onto his plate. “You hated law school.”

“It would have been really helpful if you told me that two and a half years ago,” Sabrina informed him.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ambrose wondered. "It's much more fun for me this way." Sabrina rolled her eyes.

“Never mind all that,” Hilda said, bringing the coffee back to the table. “You’re happy with your decision, Sabrina?”

“I am,” Sabrina said with confidence. “I’m going to start teaching dance tomorrow and I don’t know, take some time, figure it out. Maybe I’ll hate teaching dance. Maybe I’ll love it. Who knows? But I know that for right now, law school isn’t where I need to be.”

“If you’re happy, you have my full support,” Hilda assured her. “Zelda… Well, she’ll be a bit difficult for a few days, but she’ll come around eventually.”

“I’m going with Ambrose’s theory,” Sabrina said. “She’s probably digging my grave. Make sure my casket is pretty?”

“Only the finest,” Ambrose promised. “Gilded with gold. I’ll have them bury you in that red dress you love.”

“You’re a good cousin,” Sabrina approved. Hilda rolled her eyes.

“Enough with the morbid talk,” she told them. “There are actual dead bodies downstairs awaiting my attention. Eat your breakfast and put your dishes in the dishwasher when you’re done.” She drifted out of the room to set to her own work for the day.

“Is it weird that we don’t think it’s weird that she can cook us breakfast and immediately go embalm a body?” Sabrina wondered.

“Very,” Ambrose confirmed through a mouthful of food. “You do like to stir them up though, don’t you? Breaking off engagements, dropping out of school…You took out Hilda when you tossed Harvey, now you've set your sights on Zelda.”

“I withdrew,” Sabrina said again. 

“Same thing,” Ambrose said airily. He held up his coffee mug. “Cheers to creating chaos in the name of your own happiness, cousin.”

Sabrina had to smile as she lifted her own mug.

“Cheers.”

* * *

Nick turned off his car and just sat there, breathing deep.

It had been a hell of a day and it was only early afternoon. It had started with another early morning therapy session. This time, he had brought Sabrina and all the complicated emotions he felt around her to the table in an effort to be proactive. His therapist had given him a lot of tough love, essentially telling him to stop getting in his own way and let himself feel what he was feeling for Sabrina. He didn’t think it was that easy, to essentially tell himself he deserved a chance with Sabrina and then believe it, but according to his therapist, it should be. It frustrated him that it _wasn’t_ so easy for him, because he desperately wanted it to be.

He was already worked up when his phone rang. It was his grandmother and she had ambushed him with Michael on the line as well. The conversation had quickly turned into an argument and he had hung up annoyed at them and no closer to a resolution when it came to his parents’ assets. Another thing his therapist seemed to think was as simple as making up his mind. Another thing he didn’t think was that easy.

He allowed himself a couple of minutes to just breathe and try to settle his mind, release his annoyance. He couldn’t sit for too long, however, as he was meeting Sabrina. He gave himself a pep talk as he crossed campus to the coffee shop while trying to push down the voice that told him he knew better than to agree to meet Sabrina right after a therapy appointment. He was always on edge after them. He liked to have time to decompress, digest whatever had occurred in his session. But the desire to spend time with Sabrina had outweighed his common sense.

In the week since she had dropped out of law school, he hadn’t seen her as much. She had come over the previous Wednesday as planned, this time with a barbecue shredded pork she had cooked in a crock-pot all day and homemade coleslaw. He had insisted she sit down and allow him to do the dishes and then had gotten an idea of just how flexible she was shortly after. He couldn’t help but notice that every time she slept over, he in turn slept better. She had come into the bar with Roz on Saturday, but he hadn’t seen her in three days, thanks to their schedules.

She was easy to find. The café wasn’t especially busy, but it was full enough. Still, she stuck out, at least to him. He was growing quite used to seeing her in her dance clothes. Today, it was a soft pink long sleeve shirt that hung off one shoulder and her usual black leggings. He really loved those leggings – they accented exactly the right places.

“Hi,” she greeted with a bright smile and a genuine happiness to see him. Just one word from her made him smile.

“Hi,” he greeted as she stood to hug him. Some of his bad mood melted away as the scent of her ever more familiar floral perfume filled his nostrils. He kissed her hair before she pulled away. “I’m going to go get a coffee. Need a refill?”

“I’m good,” Sabrina smiled. “Thank you though.” He winked at her and went to order. As he waited, he remembered something he need to do for his teaching assistant duties. He took out his phone to make a task reminder, the only way he remembered to do anything, only to find a series of texts from his grandmother.

_I don’t approve of your attitude earlier, young man._

_Michael and I are only trying to look out for your interests._

_Perhaps we shouldn’t have ambushed you, but you’re not talking to us. You’re not taking action. We’re trying to help, Nicholas._

_I don’t like how we ended our call. Call me later, please._

_I love you._

Michael, too, had texted.

_I apologize if you felt attacked this morning. Your grandmother hoped having us both on the line might help get things moving along. Call me when you can and we’ll talk things through. I’ll answer any questions you have to help you make your decision._

Any improvement in his mood was wiped away. He nodded a curt thanks to the barista and returned to Sabrina.

“I’m glad we could do this,” she said as he settled across from her. “Perhaps one of the only things I miss about being a student is running into you between classes.”

“It is unfortunate that I don’t have anyone to make out with outside the dance studio,” Nick agreed. “How is teaching going?”

“I love it,” Sabrina confessed. “Like, I actually love it. I taught a preschool ballet class this morning and it was the cutest thing. They are all three and four years old and they just hang onto your every word.”

She went on, telling Nick in detail about the classes she had taught so far, the students she had met, her favorites and the few that got under her skin. He tried to pay attention, but his mind drifted, thinking about his grandmother, Michael, the decisions he needed to make. He was a million miles away by the time Sabrina noticed.

“Nick?” He didn’t respond, actively playing with the corner of a napkin. “Nick!”

He startled back to the present.

“What?” He shook his head as though trying to clear the fog. “Sorry. What were you saying?” Sabrina frowned.

“What was the last thing you heard me say?” she questioned.

“Um,” Nick searched his mind, “something about preschoolers and jazz class?”

“Not even close,” Sabrina informed him. She sat back against the booth wall. “What’s going on? You were a million miles away.”

“Just a lot on my mind,” he tried. “Sorry. I’m here, I’m paying attention. Tell me again about dance.”

“I think you’re the one that needs to talk,” she countered. “What’s on your mind, Scratch?”

“Nothing of importance,” he shook his head. He had already talked enough about his problems for the day.

“Nick, you are always attentive. You always listen when I talk. Whatever is on your mind is clearly weighing on you.” She reached out and rested her hand over his. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing, Sabrina,” Nick insisted.

“Nick, you can talk to me.” She knew she was pushing, but as the days went by, she was noticing more and more that Nick kept her at not quite arm’s length. He let her in to a point but resisted her getting too close all the same. She wanted him to trust her, to share whatever was going on with him. “What’s bothering you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he pushed her off. “I came to have coffee with you before class, not to talk about how my day is going.”

“You’re clearly having a bad one,” Sabrina observed.

“Can you just drop it, Sabrina?” Nick snapped. “I just wanted to have coffee with you. Don’t make me regret it.”

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. She sat back and removed her hand as though she had been burned.

“Sabrina…”

“I should get going.” She dropped the book she had been reading into her bag. Nick caught her hand when she reached for her phone.

“Hey, stop,” he tried in a tone much softer than before. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m due to teach soon,” she pulled her hand back again. “And I think you need some time to cool off from whatever has you riled up.”

“I thought you said you didn’t teach until this afternoon, once the schools let out,” Nick called her out on her white lie

“I want to dance before I teach,” she stated, sliding out of the booth with her bag on her shoulder. “Work on some choreography.” Nick got to his feet as she did the same.

“Sabrina, don’t,” he tried. He put his hand on her elbow to keep her from walking out on him. “Sit back down, have coffee with me. I’m going to check my attitude and listen better, I promise.”

“I think it’s best for me to go,” she said. “You’re not in a good mood and if I stick around, I think we’re going to end up having a bigger argument than we are right now.” That was the truth. She was sure that if she stayed, she would push him to talk when he didn’t want to, and they would both grow more agitated until things boiled over. She was trying to avoid that by walking away now. “I would rather leave now, annoyed at you, than stay longer only to end up full on mad at you. Or you at me.”

“Fine,” Nick sighed, sensing he wasn’t going to win this arguement. He leaned in and brushed his lips across her cheek, realizing he hadn’t kissed her properly yet. “Call me later?”

“You call me,” she countered. “When you’re in a better mood.”

She left then, leaving Nick alone at their table. He sat back down with a certain heaviness and ran a frustrated hand through his hair, fully aware of those around him who were trying to not look his way. He was, officially, the guy who had pissed off the girl they were on a date with enough for her to storm off and leave him all alone.

Today had gone from bad to worse.

And he had no one to blame but himself.

* * *

Nick raised his fist and knocked. Only moments passed before the door swung open to reveal Ambrose, dressed as eccentrically as ever.

“Flowers,” he greeted, observing the bouquet of fresh flowers in Nick’s hand. “In a bit of trouble, are we Nicholas?”

“Something like that,” Nick admitted. He wasn’t really sure how a bouquet of grocery store flowers was going to help him, but he was willing to give it a try in hopes that it at least broke the ice he was sure would be between them. “Is Sabrina here?” Her car was parked out front, but with the way she walked around Greendale, there was no guarantee.

“She’s upstairs in her bedroom,” Ambrose confirmed. “I’ll give you a choice. I can call her down which means you will have to deal with the aunts because the moment they realize you’re here, they will both come running, one to feed you, one to simply ogle you. Alternatively, I can send you up and allow you to take your chances with whether or not Sabrina is going to let you in as I don’t know the severity of what you have done to piss her off.”

“I choose option two,” Nick decided. He had already seen one more Spellman than he wanted to, at least until he righted things with Sabrina. “Point me to her bedroom.”

“Upstairs, second floor, take the right staircase when it splits, third door on the right,” Ambrose motioned him through the door. “Godspeed.”

“She’s annoyed at me, but I don’t think I need a ‘Godspeed’ to get me through her door.”

“You don’t know Sabrina,” Ambrose quipped. “She can hold a grudge like no other. I ate her chocolate rabbit one Easter when she was ten and she still brings it up.”

Nick left Ambrose with a shake of his head and climbed the stairs, following directions to Sabrina’s room. He tapped lightly on her door.

“Come in!” she called.

Nick opened the door but didn’t step through the threshold. Sabrina sat cross-legged on her bed with her laptop open, wearing the same clothes as earlier.

“You sure?” he asked. “I know you weren’t expecting me.”

“Nick.” She looked surprised to see him. “What are you doing here?”

“You told me to call when I was in a better mood,” he reminded her. “I decided to call on you in a more old-fashioned way.” He held up the flowers. “I brought you these.”

“Thank you,” she stood and took a few cautious steps towards Nick. He still hovered in the doorway. “You can come in, Nick.”

He approached her with what he hoped was an apologetic look. He offered her the flowers. She accepted them with a small smile.

“Thank you,” she said again. She studied them for a moment and her smile grew. “They’re beautiful.” She placed them on her dresser. “I’ll get a vase from Hilda’s botanical room in a bit.” She wandered towards Nick, unsure of who should make the next move. He made the decision for her.

“Come here.” He brought her into his arms. She slipped her arms around him and returned his embrace. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “My day started off pretty shitty and I took it out on you earlier. You didn’t deserve that.”

Sabrina didn’t say anything. She took him by the hand and brought him to her bed. He remained cautious as he settled next to her, both of them leaning against the headboard.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked carefully. Nick sighed. He had come to terms with the fact that he owed her an explanation. He had opted to tell her the truth – or at least some version of it.

“My grandma called this morning. She had the family lawyer, Michael, on the phone. There’s some stuff with my parents’ estate that they want me to take care of and it’s causing a lot of stress on all parts.”

The truth, minus any mention of his therapy appointment.

“I’m sorry you’re dealing with that,” Sabrina replied and he knew by her tone that she meant it. “Is there anything I can help with?” Nick shook his head.

“It’s stuff I need to figure out. I didn’t exactly handle the call well.” He looped an arm around her shoulders. “I should probably call at least my grandma and apologize.”

“She would probably appreciate it,” Sabrina chanced. She thought there was more to the story, but it was still more than he usually shared.

“I can get away with just texting Michael,” he continued. “He’s an old friend of my parents. He and my dad met in college. They were each other’s best mans in their weddings.” Nick played with her hair. “He’s my godfather.”

“It’s probably useful to have a lawyer as a godfather.”

She had no idea.

“He’s a good guy.”

She rested her head on his shoulder.

“I owe you an apology, too. I’m sorry I was pushy. I do that sometimes. Or a lot of times.”

“It’s okay. You were trying to help.” His body relaxed now that Sabrina was back in his arms. He had spent the entirety of his afternoon class fretting about just how mad at him she was, had no real idea as to what they had discussed in the lecture. He had been prepared to grovel, but a simple apology seemed to be enough for her and for that he was grateful. “I’m obviously not great at letting people help me.”

“Honestly, it hurt my feelings the most that you weren’t listening to me,” she confessed. “You always listen, and I love that about you.” She did that nervous thing where she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and released it. “Harvey and I used to argue because he never listened to me. I guess he used to, back when we were younger, but over the years, he would just – drift. I like that you listen to me. I didn’t realize how much I needed that until I met you.”

Nick kissed her hair. It continued to surprise him, how affectionate he was with her. But it just felt like second nature with her. It surprised him, too, how she continued to make him feel needed.

“I’m sorry. I was distracted by the phone call with my grandma and Michael. I promise to listen to you.” He pulled her a little closer. “I like listening to you. You’re maybe the only thing more interesting to me than my textbooks.” That earned him a short chuckle from Sabrina. “Forgive me for being a dick earlier?”

“I forgive you,” she told him. “Just – Nick? I’ll listen to you, too. If you want to talk about – anything.” She hoped it would inspire him to open up to her.

“I talk to you more than I do most people,” he assured her. “Did I interrupt anything?”

“I was watching YouTube videos to get some choreography ideas. Nothing super important.”

“You know, I like dating a dancer…” Nick ventured. He could say ‘dating.’ Calling her his ‘girlfriend’ was a hurdle he wasn’t ready to tackle yet, but ‘dating’ felt okay. ‘Dating’ was huge for him, but he could do ‘dating.’

“Would it have anything to do with how flexible I am?” she teased.

“That might have something to do with it…” His hand slid over her thigh. “I like the outfits, too.”

Sabrina leaned in to kiss him. She was the one who deepened the kiss, but Nick didn’t refuse. She kept her lips on his as she navigated herself into his lap. Nick did something to her. He made her feel bold, wanted. The lust was real, the attraction deep. She wasted no time in pulling his shirt off.

“Your aunts,” he breathed. “Ambrose…”

Sabrina pulled back and looked at him for a moment. She smirked, then got off his lap. He watched her cross the room to her door and lock it. She held his eyes as she came back to him and watched as his darkened with lust. She removed her shirt, leaving her in leggings and a sports bra.

“Don’t you worry about them,” she got back into his lap. “This is a big house and we’ll be quiet.” She ran her hands through his hair. “Besides, I caught Ambrose in an orgy in the attic once. After that, he and I developed a hard and fast rule that we dutifully avoid the other’s room when someone is over.” Her hands slid down his chest. “My aunts are probably downstairs, but if they aren’t, their bedrooms are on the other side of the house.”

“Think you can be quiet?” Nick asked, his own hands dragging up her body. “You’re a little loud.”

“I wouldn’t have to be if you didn’t make me feel so good,” she countered. She wondered who she was, saying things like that. “I get to be on top this time.”

Nick was at her mercy and he didn’t try to fight it. He leaned back into the pillows as Sabrina’s hands and lips worked down his chest. He hadn’t anticipated this when he came over to apologize, but he wasn’t upset about how things were turning out. She popped the button on his jeans and his eyes rolled back into his head as her hand reached in to free him.

“Babe,” he breathed. “Damn.”

He somehow still had enough of his brain about him to tug at her bra to help her remove it. When she released him to allow him to pull the bra over her head, he took advantage of the position to sit up and give attention to her chest. He had figured out she liked that, liked how his tongue swirled, his teeth pulled. Her soft gasps told him he was doing what she liked. He kept an arm locked around her waist to keep her close and slid his hand into her leggings.

“You’re ready for me,” he said into her ear as she whimpered. She wondered how he did that, managed to take over without her realizing it. Her tight leggings created an extra sensation as he rubbed her. “But let me make sure.”

“Ah!” Sabrina gasped as his finger slipped inside her. She held onto his shoulders and bit her lip hard to keep from crying out. She cursed when a second finger entered her.

“There’s my girl,” he continued. He had found, too, that she responded to his often foul mouth. He loved it, that her sweet, kind demeanor gave away to a vamp of a woman in the bedroom. “Let’s take these leggings off so I can have you properly.”

She kissed him before she stood to shimmy out of her leggings. He pushed down his jeans, blatantly watching her as she got naked. He kicked his shoes off, wrestled his jeans and boxer briefs the rest of the way off, and reached for her as she came back to him.

“I still get to be on top,” she reminded him with a devilish smirk. He ran a hand down her chest, pausing to squeeze her breast as she positioned herself over him.

“Ride me, Spellman.”

She wondered if it was possible to come from words alone as she sunk onto him. He held onto her hips as she began to find her rhythm. As she settled in, he again wrapped his arm around her waist and sucked and nipped at her neck, groaning and whispering progressively filthier things as he came closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “I can’t…”

He pulled her off of him to stop himself.

“Nick?”

She looked confused, questioning.

“Turn around,” he instructed. Sabrina frowned.

“What?”

“Turn around,” he said again. “Then get me back inside of you. Quickly.”

The way he ordered her around made her that much more turned on. She didn’t get told what to do often. She told people what to do. It was her nature, to boss people around. But with Nick, she was willing to trade off. She did as he told her and sunk back on him. She had read about this position in magazines but had never had the chance to try it. Already, she thought she might like it, even if she missed the connection of being able to see Nick. She leaned forward a bit, her hands on his legs for leverage as she began to move.

“There you go,” he groaned from behind her. “That’s it.”

His hand snuck around her and started to rub her clit. His other hand squeezed at her hip.

“Oh my God, Nick,” she breathed as something powerful built inside her. She began to shake. Nick rubbed a little harder. She pulsed around him and when he knew she was about to peak, he lunged forward and put his hand over her mouth to muffle her cries, his other hand never leaving between her legs.

“Quiet,” he reminded her. “You don’t want your aunts to hear you come on my dick.”

She cried out into his hand as he sealed his own lips where her neck met her shoulder to quell his own shout. She fell forward when she was done, catching herself on Nick’s legs as he kept going. It only took him a few more thrusts before he was leaving himself inside of her.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. Nick’s forehead rested between her shoulder blades as he tried to catch his breath. “How does this keep getting better?”

Nick gently moved her off of him. He laid back into the pillows and pulled her with him. He was quickly growing into a place where sticky, sweaty post-sex Sabrina in his arms was his favorite place to be.

“You have a man that knows what he’s doing,” Nick said, feeling cocky after the dirty sex they had just had.

“Someone is sure of himself,” Sabrina teased. He wasn’t wrong however.

“And you have a temptress in you,” he continued. His fingertips danced along her spine. “I’m just pulling it out.”

“Bless you,” Sabrina stated, making Nick chuckle. He kissed her forehead.

“To be clear, I didn’t come over for sex. I came over to apologize for how I acted earlier.”

“Makeup sex,” Sabrina stated. “It’s a thing.”

“I don’t exactly want to have to have a lot of makeup sex because that would mean a lot of arguments, but I can get behind the concept.”

Again, Sabrina found herself wondering what the status of their relationship was. She decided to broach the topic just a bit. She propped herself up on her elbow to look at him. Her hand trailed down his chest.

“Just so you know, you’re the only person I’m doing – that – with.”

“You’re the only one messing up my sheets too,” Nick confirmed. He figured that was enough of a commitment for now. Dating. And only having sex with her. It was time to change the subject. “You know, sex makes me hungry and a cheeseburger from Cee’s sounds like an ideal solution.”

“Are you asking me to dinner, Scratch?”

“If you haven’t eaten,” Nick confirmed.

“I’ll agree, but there is a caveat.”

“I’m listening.”

“We have to make it past Hilda,” Sabrina smirked. “It’s dinnertime anyway. She sees you? She’s going to cook a feast.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t turn the woman’s food down,” Nick teased. “But I think it might be a little awkward for me to sit at her table moments after I defiled her niece one floor above.”

“Get dressed, Scratch.” She pecked his lips, then pushed out of bed. She wasn’t too keen to subject Nick to a dinner with her aunts at the moment, given that she and Zelda were still trading barbs about her decision to withdraw from law school. “Operation sneak out to Cee’s begins now.”

Nick chuckled and followed her out of the bed. His day had somehow managed to make a full one-eighty. His mood was lifted. Sabrina did that for him.

“Stay with me tonight,” he pitched as he pulled his jeans back on.

“You sure?” Sabrina chanced as she tugged her leggings back up her legs.

“Positive. I sleep better when you’re next to me.” He smirked, just as much to hide his vulnerability as to deliver his next line. “Besides, I’ve got this vision of what we could do in my shower…”

“You’re incorrigible,” she informed him. “But okay. I’ll stay. Only because I’m curious about this vision of yours.”

He waited while she tossed a few things into a bag and found a makeshift vase for her flowers to keep them overnight until she could do better, then took her by the hand. They were at the front door when Ambrose spoke.

“So that worked out then.”

He was leaning against the living room door frame, eating a handful of almonds.

“Shut up, Ambrose,” Sabrina retorted.

“Shall I tell the aunties you won’t be at dinner?” he continued.

“We’re going out to eat,” Nick answered.

“And not coming back tonight, based on the looks of that bag on Sabrina’s shoulder.”

“Goodbye, Ambrose,” Sabrina said pointedly.

“Cheers,” he said with a knowing grin. Nick just shook his head, a small grin playing on his lips, and led Sabrina outside.

“I hate him,” Sabrina declared when they were in the yard.

“You love him,” Nick countered.

“I do,” Sabrina said begrudgingly. “I just don’t like him.”

Nick chuckled and squeezed her hand.

He was well aware that things between he and Sabrina were traveling down a path that he had never been down before. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he didn’t know if he could be the guy she deserved. He didn’t know if he could be a boyfriend, share his life with her, both the good and the bad.

He didn’t know if he could let her go either.

He was damned if he did, damned if he didn’t.

So he decided to just be damned.

Because if Sabrina Spellman ended up being his demise, it would be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We went through it here, didn't we? Sabrina quits law school, she tells the aunts, has her first fight with Nick who went out of his comfort zone to buy her flowers and apologize... This Nick is a little slutty, as Prudence would say. Sabrina doesn't hate it. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought! And your favorite song on 'folklore.' My early favorites... "the 1," "the last great american dynasty," "invisible strings," "mad woman," and "betty." But like.. also all of them. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	13. This Is Me Trying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a disclaimer/PSA: I love therapy. Like, I LOVE therapy. I go every week. It's brilliant and I think we should all have the opportunity to sit down and talk with someone about life. What you'll read below is based on my own experiences with how therapy goes - my therapist is real good, guy gets me to say all the things and feel all the feelings - but this may not be everyone's experience. 
> 
> Mental health. It's important. Let's normalize talking about it. 
> 
> And another shout out to Taylor Swift for providing the perfect lyrics for this update.

_And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound_   
_It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you_

“How is school going?”

“Fine,” Nick shrugged. “School is school. I’m good at it. I like it. It’s a lot of work, but it’s not really a stressor.”

“It’s a good stressor,” Elsbeth, his therapist, corrected. “We’ve talked about the difference between good stressors and negative stressors. School falls under a good stressor for you.”

“Fine, it’s a good stressor,” Nick amended, his annoyance at the correction barely masked.

“And work?” she continued, unfazed by his irritation.

“It’s – work.” Nick’s disinterest was palpable. “People like the drinks I make.”

“How does that make you feel?” she pushed. Nick made a face.

“How do I feel about people liking the drinks I make?” he repeated. “It’s just a drink. I don’t put that much importance on whether or not people like them.”

“You specialize in craft cocktails, right?”

“Yeah,” Nick agreed. “But I don’t make a ton of those at Dorian’s. It’s mostly college kids. They’re not looking for a $15 drink. They’re looking for cheap shots and even cheaper beer.”

“Does it make you proud when someone likes one of your creations?”

Nick decided he hated therapy. He waffled back and forth. Sometimes he didn’t mind it. He could see how it helped him, thought it was working for him. Other times, like now, he thought it was a complete waste of his time. He didn’t see how his feelings on whether or not someone liked the drinks he made them affected his overall mental health.

“Who doesn’t like to be told they’re good at something?” he questioned. “I like it when my professors give me good grades, but that’s because it shows my efforts paid off.”

“It’s not the same with mixed drinks?” she asked. “You don’t feel a surge of pride when someone says ‘that was a really good drink?’”

Nick opened his mouth to say no but stopped himself. He thought of how Sabrina had lit up when she tasted the martini he made just for her, how Ambrose requested the spicy custom cocktail he had crafted on a whim every time he came into the bar. A few nights ago, Prudence had refused to allow any other bartender to make her standard martini. A total stranger had complimented his blood orange margaritas that same night.

“I guess I feel good when people like my drinks,” he admitted. “A lot of times I’m experimenting. The approval feels good.” Elsbeth nodded in her approving sort of way. “Apparently I’m on the right track,” he mumbled.

“You haven’t had a lot of approval in your life in recent years, have you?” Elsbeth asked gently, pretending like she hadn’t heard him.

“No,” Nick sighed. He really hated therapy.

“Your parents – they were proud of your accomplishments, weren’t they?”

“Yes,” Nick admitted, his eyes downcast. He fought the urge to say more. It was his M.O. in therapy sessions. He said the bare minimum – until he didn’t.

“How so?”

He took his time answering.

“They just – told me a lot,” he finally said. “They always let me know they were proud of me, my whole life. They told their friends. Hell, Mom was a big fan of Facebook. She posted embarrassing stuff about me all the time.”

“Embarrassing how?”

“She bragged,” Nick told her. “I would roll my eyes when I read it, read all of her friends’ comments, but now I miss it.”

“What about your dad?” Elsbeth asked. “How did he show you he was proud of you?”

“He told me,” Nick said simply. “He actually told me a lot. I never doubted that my parents were proud of me.” He paused for a moment and pursed his lips. “I didn’t doubt when they weren’t so proud of me either.”

“Your parents were very honest with you,” Elsbeth acknowledged. “They let you know when they were proud, but they also didn’t try to protect you when you were wrong.”

“No,” Nick shook his head. “They certainly didn’t.”

“Would it be fair to say you appreciate the validation of things like good grades and people liking the drinks you make?”

“I guess,” Nick shrugged a shoulder. “I just – don’t really have anyone telling me their proud of me anymore.”

He actively avoided eye contact. He had seen a few therapists over the years and Elsbeth was the best of them. She insisted on being called by her first name despite her medical degree from Harvard hanging prominently in her office and she had a way of asking short, simple questions in a rapid-fire sort that got him to confess whatever was on his mind.

“What about Sabrina?” Elsbeth questioned. “Does she ever express any sort of pride or validation in your work?”

“She called me hard working once,” Nick remembered. He still actively looked anywhere but at Elsbeth. “She never complains when I have to study or work on a paper or something. She teases me about being a nerd, but not in a condescending way. It’s more of a ‘I like this about you’ kind of way.”

“You like that, don’t you?” Elsbeth asked.

“Yeah,” Nick confessed. He picked at a loose thread on the arm of the chair he was slumped in. “She has a way of making me feel like more of a man. I know how sexist that sounds. She is the last person that needs a guy to be a stereotypical man. She’s fine on her own. But she trusts me, you know? It’s been a while since someone trusted me. I like how that feels. I like that she comes to me when she’s upset or when she has important news. It makes me feel worthwhile.”

And just like that, Elsbeth had got him to confess his deepest feelings which also happened to align perfectly with his deepest fears. He definitely hated therapy.

“And how are things going with Sabrina?”

It was the question Nick had been waiting for. They had barely discussed her in his last session, choosing instead to rehash his relationship with his father, another loaded topic. He took his time forming his answer, aware that he had to be honest, especially now that he had shared how much Sabrina’s confidence in him meant to him.

“Okay, I guess.”

“Okay?” Elsbeth prodded. She knew there was more.

“We had our first argument week before last,” Nick said casually. “I went to her place later that day and apologized. Things have been okay since then.”

“What did you argue about?”

“I was in a bad mood. I took it out on her.”

“Why were you in a bad mood?”

“It was after our session, not last week but the week before. My grandma and Michael ambushed me almost as soon as I left here, and I didn’t respond well. I was supposed to meet Sabrina for coffee, and I thought I could shake off my bad mood. Instead, I tuned her out while she was talking about her new job teaching dance, she called me out, and when I told her I was having a bad day, she tried to get my to talk about it.”

“What was your response?” Elsbeth pushed. Nick knew she had him right where she wanted him. He almost envied her ability to get her subjects to talk. He would envy it if he wasn’t the subject she had spilling all of his secrets on her incredibly expensive rug that protected her highly polished hardwood floors.

“I told her some of the truth.”

Nick felt like he was defending himself.

“Which was?”

“That Grandma and Michael had called and ambushed me about some legal stuff with my parents.”

“Did you give her any details about that legal stuff?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not important.”

“But isn’t it?” Elsbeth countered. “It’s a large part of why you’re here.”

“That’s not why I’m here…”

“It is,” Elsbeth insisted. “But that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking why you haven’t confided in Sabrina.”

“It’s not her problem.”

“But she seems to care for you,” Elsbeth pressed. “Based on what you’ve told me, I think she would want to know. I’d even go as far as to say she would be there for you.”

Privately, she knew Sabrina would be there for him. She had gone to school with Sabrina. She even considered Sabrina a friend. For better or worse, being a therapist in a small town mean she held a lot of secrets about a lot of people. It was all she could do not to tell her patient how very much in his corner Sabrina would be if he would just open the door for her.

“It’s not her problem,” Nick said again. “It’s mine.”

“Nicholas, are you prepared to lose Sabrina?”

Nick frowned. Of all the questions he had anticipated, that one wasn’t on his radar.

“I’m not… She’s… We’re not…” He fumbled for his words.

“It’s a yes or no question.” Elsbeth was direct in her delivery. “Are you prepared to lose Sabrina?”

Nick averted his eyes, even more uncomfortable than usual in the therapist’s office.

“No,” he admitted quietly.

“If you don’t confide in her, if you don’t commit to her, you are going to lose her.” Again, Elsbeth was blunt. “You are self-sabotaging, Nicholas. You don’t believe you deserve good things in your life. It’s a form of punishment. It’s why you’re avoiding taking control of your parents’ assets and its why you’re not allowing a girl you obviously care about to get close.”

“It’s not self-sabotaging,” Nick argued. “With Sabrina at least it’s – self-preservation.”

“Go on,” Elsbeth encouraged.

Nick sighed.

“I don’t want her to know about my past,” he confessed. “It will change her mind about me. And then I’d lose her, and we’ve established that I’m not prepared to do that.”

“But isn’t your past in your past?” Elsbeth asked. “Isn’t that what we’re doing here? Moving on?”

“I’m trying to,” he said. “But it’s a lot to move on from.”

“It is,” Elsbeth agreed. “But you’re holding yourself back, Nicholas. You are holding onto the things that happened to you…”

“I happened to me,” Nick interjected. “Things didn’t happen to me. I’m solely responsible.”

Elsbeth sighed.

“Your choices are your own,” she agreed. “And they did contribute. But a lot of what happened to you was not in your hands, Nicholas. You need to accept that and forgive yourself. I think you could be happy with Sabrina if you only allowed yourself to be. You are setting yourself up for disaster. Surely you see that.”

Nick could see it clearly. He was speeding towards disaster if he didn’t get honest with both himself and Sabrina, if he didn’t sign those papers Michael so desperately wanted him to sign. But something held him back. Something kept him from opening his mouth and confiding in Sabrina, from calling her his girlfriend, from telling her how much her faith in him meant, from signing the papers he had finally printed out – the same papers he had hurriedly tucked away when he came home to find Sabrina asleep on his couch. He had forgotten he had left them there and they hadn’t been moved. She hadn’t mentioned them, so he had convinced himself she hadn’t seen them.

“Sabrina’s birthday is the day after tomorrow,” he told Elsbeth. Her body language told him she was frustrated with him.

“You’re avoiding,” she called him out.

“I’m not. We’re talking about Sabrina. I’m talking about Sabrina.”

“You’re avoiding,” she said again. “You’re doing the same thing with me that you’re doing with Sabrina. You aren’t going to make progress until you get out of your own way.”

“If I’m not going to make progress, why am I coming here every week?” Nick asked, growing frustrated with the way this session was going.

“Why are you coming here every week?” Elsbeth countered. “What brings you to my office once a week at eight o’clock in the morning?”

A long pause followed. Elsbeth waited him out, making notes on her clipboard while he avoided eye contact and smoothed a non-existent wrinkle in his pants over and over, a nervous habit she had noted he had early into their sessions.

“I want to get better,” he finally said. He still avoided eye contact. Elsbeth tried not to feel pity for her patients, but it was hard not to when it came to the young man before her. He had so much potential, so much to offer, but he had made some bad choices and life had dealt him an unfair hand on top of the problems he had caused. He was stuck in the past, and she simply could not break through to him, no matter how hard she worked or what angle she took. Sometimes, like earlier in today’s session, she thought she was close. But then whatever ghosts haunted him returned and pulled him right back into the dark hole he kept himself in.

“I believe that,” she told him with an encouraging nod. “I really do, Nicholas. But to get better, you have to do the work. I can give you the tools. I can talk to you for an hour a week. We can add more therapy sessions, even. But until you make the effort to do the work, things aren’t going to change. I think you know that.”

Nick said nothing. He did know that. He had come close to trying to talk to Sabrina a couple of times now. But he felt like he had been thrown overboard with a cinderblock tied to each ankle and no matter how hard he fought he couldn’t reach the surface. He could see the light above him, beaconing him forward, but he couldn’t reach it. He could never reach it.

“That’s all we have time for today,” Elsbeth said gently. “You know what to do, Nicholas.”

Nick felt even heavier than usual as he walked out of the office and onto the Greendale streets. He paused for a moment to breathe in the cool fall air. It calmed him a bit, but his anxiety was still high. He got in his car and started it up, but he sat there for a moment, thinking. He checked the time. He had class in just under an hour, but he picked up his phone and called Sabrina.

“Hi,” she greeted.

“Good morning,” he replied, working to sound normal. “Where are you?”

“I’m on my way to the studio to work on some choreography. I just got in the car. Where are you?”

“I’m also in my car. On my way to campus.” He put his car in reverse and pulled out of his parking spot. “I’ve got class this morning.”

“It’s weird not going to class,” Sabrina admitted. “I don’t really miss it, but I have so much free time now. I don’t know how to fill it outside of dance.”

“I have a feeling you will find a way to fill that newfound freedom of yours,” Nick said. “You don’t strike me as the type that allows themselves to sit idly.”

“I tried to get Ambrose to play a board game with me yesterday,” she confessed. “He wouldn’t do it. He said he had to study, but he’s not fooling me. I heard his video game system. I should have beat on his door and made him let me play with him.”

Nick chuckled as he navigated his car into the dance studio parking lot just down the street from his therapist. Sabrina wasn’t there yet. He pulled into a spot, content to wait for her.

“I’ll see him this afternoon on campus. Want me to ask him to play with you when he gets home?”

“Haha,” Sabrina replied dryly. “Can I make a confession?”

“I’m listening.”

“I like that you called me this morning.”

Nick smiled to himself. He had done something right. He was rather proud of himself. He dismissed Elsbeth’s voice reminding him how much Sabrina’s validation meant to him. This was simply a normal gesture that lots of people did.

“I’ve never called you before, have I?” he realized. They both tended to text, to maybe send a DM on Instagram. They didn’t call each other, even when the other said ‘call me later?’ when they went their separate ways. They always simply sent a text. It was a hallmark of their generation, to avoid talking on the phone at all costs.

“I can’t remember the last time I talked to someone besides Hilda or Zelda on the phone,” Sabrina admitted. “Ambrose and I have managed to get even them to text more often than not.”

“Maybe I’ll call you more often,” Nick hedged. He saw her car slowing down to turn into the dance studio. “Now that you’ve got so much free time and all.”

“Maybe I’ll call you, too,” Sabrina countered. “Seeing as I’ve got so much free time and all.” She pulled into a parking spot near the front of the studio. “I’m at the studio. I’ve got preschoolers in an hour, so I should get to it if I’m going to run through a number I want to start with my jazz class this afternoon.”

“I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Nick asked.

“Later,” Sabrina promised. “Have a good day, Nick.”

“I will,” he assured her. “Bye, Sabrina.”

He ended the call and watched as her car door opened. He opened his own door, but she was oblivious to the only other vehicle in the lot as she leaned in to get her dance bag from the passenger seat. He got out of his car and started towards her. She hoisted her bag on her shoulder and shut her car door with her hip.

“You really need to be more mindful of your surroundings, Spellman.”

Sabrina spun around.

“Nick!”

“Hey, Spellman,” he said with a grin.

“What are you doing here?” Her surprise was evident.

“I wanted to see you,” he shrugged. “My phone call was just a way to find out where you were.” He reached for her. “Come here.” She was all too happy to go to him. “I made a good choice.”

“I’ll agree to that,” she said as she leaned into his embrace. “You are a pleasant surprise this morning, Scratch.”

“I just wanted to see you,” he said again. He hadn’t thought about why or questioned his instincts. He had merely allowed himself to do what he wanted in the moment and what he had wanted was to see Sabrina. “I’ve only got a minute, but I needed this.”

“Everything okay?” she wondered as she hugged him.

“Just… Missing my parents a little more today.”

It was one of the most honest things he had ever said to someone that wasn’t his grandmother, Michael, or a therapist. He wished Elsbeth could see him right then. Sabrina pulled back enough to be able to look up at him. He braced himself for the pity he expected to come.

“I still miss my parents,” she shared. “It’s been nearly twenty years, but I think about them all the time. Especially my mom.”

It wasn’t pity. It was understanding. Nick pulled her back to him. She didn’t push, just let him hug her, sensing he didn’t need or perhaps want to talk. She understood grief better than most and let him experience it however he needed. He didn’t release her for a full minute.

“I should get to campus,” he said begrudgingly when he let her go. He still held her hands. “You know how parking can get.”

“And I should get into the studio,” Sabrina agreed. “Still on for tomorrow?”

“A night to celebrate your birthday?” Nick countered. “Absolutely.” He had to work on her actual birthday – Halloween was one of the busiest nights of the year at Dorian’s – but he had plans to take her to dinner the next night for an early celebration.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Sabrina chanced.

“Me, too.” Nick leaned in to kiss her. “Seriously, Spellman, you should pay more attention to who is in the parking lot. Next time it might not be me.”

“That’s the big city guy in you talking,” Sabrina called him out. “You worry too much, Scratch.”

“You don’t worry enough, Spellman.” He kissed her again. “I suppose I should just be happy you didn’t walk here.”

“I thought about it,” she admitted. “But then I’d have to walk back after a day of teaching, and I’ve got this fancy new car…” He chuckled which made her smile. “I really am glad you called this morning. I’m even more glad you stopped by.”

“My day did just get better,” Nick agreed. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Have a good day, Sabrina.” He smiled a bit as he took her in, ready to go spend her day dancing. “I’m still proud of you.”

“Could you tell Zelda that?” she wondered. “She still thinks I made a rash decision.”

“I’ll tell her, but I need to stop by my place, pick up my shield first,” he said seriously. “To defend myself.” Sabrina laughed a bit. “She just wants what’s best for you.”

“I know,” Sabrina sighed. She just wished Zelda could see that this, dance, was what was best for her. “Go to class, Scratch. Learn something.”

“I might even teach something,” Nick quipped, alluding to the class he had to TA later in the day. Sabrina laughed.

“You are such a nerd.”

She kissed him one more time before they parted ways, oblivious to the way Nick perked up a bit at her fond teasing.

Back in his car, Nick felt – better. He had been tense, anxious, irritated with himself for allowing things to get to this point. Seeing Sabrina, hugging her, had brought him a sense of calm. It was exactly what he had needed, and he had told the truth about missing is parents a little more than usual.

He wondered if he could share more. If he really could open up to her. She had lost her parents. She might understand.

But if she didn’t…

He couldn’t trust how he would react.

* * *

“I’m so full,” Sabrina complained as she and Nick walked down Greendale’s main street hand-in-hand on the way to his apartment.

“Me too,” Nick agreed. “But it was delicious.”

“So good,” Sabrina nodded. She bumped him with her shoulder. “Thank you for dinner.”

“Happy birthday,” he replied with a grin. “A day early. But I suppose I’ll get to be the first person to tell you happy birthday on your actual birthday.”

“Are you assuming I’m going to spend the night with you, Mr. Scratch?”

“It is an assumption I’m willing to make,” Nick stated. “I’m not quite ready to send you home.”

“Your bed is comfortable,” Sabrina shrugged as though she were doing him a favor by staying with him. He chuckled and lifted their joined hands to his lips so he could press a kiss to the back of her hand. Her eyes fell on a figure approaching them. “Dammit.”

“What?” Nick wondered. He spied a dark-haired woman around Sabrina’s age walking towards them. She wore a big smile, the kind that reminded him of an overly perky high school cheerleader.

“Sabrina!” she greeted brightly.

“Hi, Lizzie,” Sabrina replied with a fake smile. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

“I’m visiting my parents for the weekend.” She reached to hug Sabrina. Sabrina forced herself to let go of Nick’s hand to return the hug. “I’m so glad I ran into you! Happy early birthday by the way!”

“Thank you,” Sabrina replied politely. Lizzie cut her eyes towards Nick, not hiding her curiosity. “Lizzie, this is…” she hesitated. She didn’t know how to introduce Nick. Was he her boyfriend? He certainly acted like it. But they hadn’t put labels on whatever they were doing. “This is Nick. Nick, this is Lizzie. We went to high school together.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nick politely shook Lizzie’s hand.

“Likewise,” she replied, still beaming. She shot Sabrina a covert raised eyebrow. Sabrina pursed her lips to mask her annoyance. “Are the pair of you out celebrating your birthday early?”

“We are,” Sabrina answered, offering no more.

They chatted with Lizzie for a few minutes, Lizzie doing most of the talking, before Sabrina gracefully extracted them from the conversation.

“So is she a friend of yours or no?” Nick wondered once they were out of earshot. “I couldn’t figure it out.”

“She’s an acquaintance,” Sabrina answered. “We grew up together, cheered together.”

“Wait, you were a cheerleader?” Nick interrupted.

“I was,” she confirmed. “It was one more outlet for me to dance. Except I skipped more practices and games than I attended because of dance competitions.” She allowed him to lead the way up the stairs to his apartment. “Honestly? I was afraid she was going to say something awkward.”

“Such as?” Nick dug his keys from his pocket.

“It’s awkward when I run into people Harvey and I grew up with,” she admitted. “She moved away years ago, but I see her from time to time when she’s in town and she follows me on social media. I didn’t want her to ask about Harvey or wonder about a wedding. Neither of us exactly blasted our broken engagement on Instagram, but I wasn’t sure if she knew or not. She probably does, given that her parents probably told her, but still.”

“You didn’t want to have to explain why you didn’t have a wedding.” He unlocked the door and held it open for her. “Or explain why you were with me.”

“I got a lot of shit for ending things with Harvey,” she confessed as she passed him. “The town took sides. Most of them took his. Things settled down, but it was a rough few months. I was the town pariah.” Nick shut the door behind them. “Once in a while, someone pops up that’s still upset with me for hurting ‘such a good boy.’ It’s an awkward conversation.”

“You know what the problem in that sentence is?” Nick asked. He sat down on the couch and motioned for Sabrina to join him. “They call him a ‘boy.’ My opinion? A ‘boy’ has no business with you, let alone committing to a marriage.”

“Are you implying that I need a man?” she asked.

“You’re a strong woman,” Nick countered. “You don’t need a man by any means, but the one you choose should be someone that can handle that, someone who isn’t intimidated by it. I don’t know this Harvey guy, but from the one time I’ve met him and the things I’ve learned about him, I don’t think you got to live into your full potential while you were with him.”

“It’s not that he held me back,” she tried to explain.

“But didn’t he?” Nick countered. “You stopped dancing because you felt like you needed to spend time with him. You’ve mentioned things that make me think you let a lot of opportunities pass you by out of obligation to him.”

Sabrina was quiet for so long that Nick was certain he had crossed a line. He opened his mouth to backtrack, but she spoke first.

“Harvey is content,” she told him before he could. “Complacent may be a better word. He’s an incredible artist. He used to dream of illustrating comics. But when it was time for SATs and college applications he just – didn’t do it. We argued about that and lot, and then we argued about where I was going to college.” She bit her lip, preparing to make a confession she had kept to herself for a long time. “I chose to go to Greendale University to stay close to him. I gave up study abroad opportunities because I knew it would be hard for him to be apart from me for several months.

“And you’re right,” she continued. “I gave up dancing because I felt like I had to choose between something I needed and what he needed.” She traced a pattern on the sofa cushion. It felt good to get some of this off of her chest, things her aunts had known all along, accused her of all along. Hindsight was everything. She was embarrassed now that she had fallen into defaulting to Harvey’s needs. Her tendency to help and protect the people she cared about had inadvertently landed her somewhere she should have never been. “Know how you toasted me a bagel that first time I spent the night here?”

“That was hardly a gourmet meal,” Nick reminded her. “That was a store bought bagel dropped in a twenty dollar toaster.”

“It was more than a toasted bagel,” Sabrina insisted. You just – made me a bagel, bagels you picked up while you were buying a toothbrush so I could brush my teeth when I woke up. Harvey treated me well, don’t get me wrong, but he didn’t do things like that. I fell into this role of homemaker that frankly doesn’t suit me. I’m not Hilda. But I would come home from a full day of classes and have a ton of work to do, but I would make dinner and then clean up dinner because ‘Harvey had a long day at the mines.’” She leaned further into the cushions, eyes still on Nick. “I guess what I’m saying is that it feels good to have some freedom, to be spending time with someone that will toast me a bagel without me asking.”

Nick studied her, taking her in, her legs curled under her as she leaned into the cushions, her body turned to face his. He had no idea how he had ended up being the one that she chose to spend time with, but in the moment, he was damned glad she had.

“You deserve to be someone’s equal,” he said. “It sounds like you put your dreams on hold, whether on purpose or not, but you don’t have to do that anymore.” He brushed her hair back. “I can’t cook you a gourmet meal – that’s not in my wheelhouse – but I’ll toast you a bagel anytime.”

Sabrina leaned in and kissed him.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I meant it when I said Harvey is a good guy. He just wanted something different than I could give him. I tried to be that girl, but it just wasn’t me. He had been through so much, losing his mom, his brother, his dad’s drinking… I got sucked in and then hurt both of us on the way out.”

“Don’t you ever think you need to be anything other than exactly who you are with me,” Nick said. “As far as I’m concerned, everything about you is utterly perfect, even your flaws.”

“I have flaws, do I?” Sabrina asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“You prefer gummies over chocolate,” he said seriously. “You think ketchup belongs on hotdogs…”

“It does!” They had debated ketchup over mustard on hotdogs while at Cee’s the previous week.

“It does not,” Nick said seriously. “And I will prove it the first chance I get to make you a proper hotdog with chili, mustard, and onions. You insist on being in your seat at the movies before the previews start and you have an annoying habit of being right.” He brushed her hair back. “You absolutely cannot parallel park…”

Sabrina burst out laughing. He had spied her attempting to parallel park outside of his apartment earlier and learned that it was a skill she did not possess. After several attempts and aware she was watching, she had put the warning lights on, gotten out of her car, and demanded he come down and do it for her. He had done it, then teased her about it for the next ten minutes.

“Some would say I push too much,” she ventured when she settled down. “That I can be a little too passionate when it comes to people and topics I care about…”

“Maybe you can be pushy,” Nick agreed. “But I don’t think that’s a flaw, necessarily. Your passion is one of the things that makes you – you.”

She had to kiss him. He saw her – really saw her – and it made her feel all sorts of things inside.

He made it clear that he had every intention of taking things much further, but she thought of meeting Lizzie on the sidewalk and how she didn’t know how to introduce him, how her heart expanded a little more each time she was with him.

She had to ask. She needed to know.

She pulled away enough to show Nick that she needed to stop for the moment, but stayed close enough to maintain the intimacy of the moment.

“What are we doing, Nick?”

“We’re sitting on my couch, making out while we digest dinner…”

“Nick.”

Nick sighed. This was it. The conversation. The one he knew was coming, but that he had actively tried to avoid all the same.

“We’re dating,” he said. “Exclusively.”

He hoped that would be enough.

Of course, it wasn’t.

“Then does that make you my boyfriend?” Sabrina asked bluntly.

Nick took a big breath, his mind made up. He had to throw his heart into the ring.

“I hope so.”

He waited, sure she would turn him down. Things didn’t work out for him. He didn’t get the girl – not when the girl was a woman of Sabrina Spellman’s caliber. It felt like minutes instead of a mere beat before Sabrina beamed at him.

“Okay then.”

“Okay then,” he echoed. An odd sense of relief settled around him. She was his girlfriend. He was her boyfriend. And it was okay. Some part of him had expected fire and brimstone to fall from the sky when this conversation took place. Except it was okay.

It was better than okay.

He leaned in to kiss her.

To kiss his girlfriend.

“It’s kind of early…” He kissed her again. “But do you want to go to bed?”

“I don’t know…” Sabrina sat back and looked at him. “I’ve got this new book I’m dying to read…”

Nick had given her a book on the history of dance for her birthday. She had flipped through it and fallen in love with it, not in the least because it was thoughtful. Part of her really did want to curl up and devour it.

“That book will still say the same thing in the morning,” he informed her. He got to his feet and pulled her with him. “Come on, Spellman.” He tugged her to follow him, drawing a laugh out of her. “Let me wish you happy birthday appropriately.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a bit came out in that therapy session, didn't it? Then Sabrina had a mini session of her own. I didn't want Harvey to be viewed negatively, but I could see Sabrina, even in cannon, getting herself caught up in a relationship that doesn't work for her in an effort to be there for someone she cares about. That's what happened here and IMO, what would happen on the show if she were to go back to Harvey. He's really not a bad guy. He's just not her guy. I could totally see the town taking sides and most of them siding with Harvey, too. 
> 
> And then Nick got himself a girlfriend! I so love writing the push/pull dynamic of his internal struggles. This story is very Nick focused and he's frustrated me a few times, but this really is him trying. He's trying harder than pretty much anyone knows. 
> 
> We'll see that a bit in the next update. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this one! 
> 
> And again, mental health - its so so important. Let's normalize it. Let's not be afraid to ask for help. Asking for help is the strongest thing you could ever do. <3


	14. The Archer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Archer" - one of my favorite Taylor Swift songs... 
> 
> Let's dig a little more into Nick's psyche, shall we?

_I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost_   
_The room is on fire, invisible smoke_   
_And all of my heroes die all alone_   
_Help me hold onto you_

“He’s so into you.”

Sabrina looked over her shoulder to where Nick was behind the bar. He winked at her as he poured a drink. She smiled at him and turned back to Roz with a faint blush in her cheeks.

“He is, isn’t he?”

The pair laughed together. It reminded Sabrina of old times, when they would sit together in one of their bedrooms and talk about boys for hours, ignoring their homework or the movie they had started with every intention of watching. They were celebrating her birthday a day late. She used to make a huge deal about her birthday. Now, it was a day marked with her usual blueberry pancakes breakfast and a Hilda-made cake after dinner. Part of her missed the grand parties she used to throw. Part of her loved this more intimate approach that had come with age – and it didn’t hurt that she was on her third day straight of birthday celebrations.

“And are you into him?” Roz wondered.

“I am,” Sabrina admitted. “I really am, Roz.” She shook her head in wonder. “I didn’t expect him. I wasn’t looking for a relationship. Not after…” She trailed off, remember who she was talking to. Roz gave her an encouraging smile.

“Not after Harvey,” she finished. “It’s okay, Sabrina.”

“I wasn’t looking for a relationship,” Sabrina said again, returning Roz’s smile with a grateful one of her own. “But Nick… He feels like someone I couldn’t avoid if I wanted to.”

“He treats you well?” Roz questioned.

“He does,” Sabrina nodded. She looked back at the bar. He was serving someone and didn’t catch her looking his way this time. “He’s considerate, kind.” She worked her lower lip between her teeth. “He doesn’t talk about his past much.”

“And that bothers you,” Roz observed.

“I want to know him,” Sabrina shared. “He tells me I know more about him than anyone, but I just feel like there’s – more.”

“Are you worried about what might be in his past?”

“I don’t think it’s anything bad,” Sabrina said truthfully. “He lost his parents somewhat recently. I think that weighs on him.”

“Which is only natural,” Roz nodded. “It may not be the easiest thing for him to talk about.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” Sabrina relented. She didn’t mention the legal papers she found. If Nick wasn’t confiding in her about whatever they were, she certainly couldn’t turn around and blabber about papers she didn’t know the reason behind to her best friend. She glanced his way again. He was expertly pouring a line of tequila shots. She thought about how she had woken up the morning before. He had kissed her awake, made love to her, then presented her with a cupcake complete with a lit candle for breakfast. She had no idea when he had procured it, but the fact that he had made the effort to make sure she had a cupcake on her birthday morning only made her fall more. She grinned just a bit and looked back to Roz. “He’s so hot.”

Roz laughed.

“It seems like you’re happy, ‘Brina. It’s good to see.”

“I am,” Sabrina nodded. She was really happy, and not just with Nick. “What about you, Roz?”

“I’m happy,” Roz confirmed with a genuine smile of her own. “I know it’s awkward, me, being with Harvey…”

“It’s not awkward, it’s right,” Sabrina corrected. “Maybe it was awkward at first, but I moved on with Nick and Harvey gets to move on too. Honestly? I think you and Harvey are perfect together.”

She had thought a lot about it. Roz was simple. She had always wanted to teach. She had gone away to college, experienced life, and decided Greendale was home. She loved her job teaching fifth grade. She was good at it. She also loved coming home, having dinner, lounging on the couch, and going to bed early. She saw clearly now how well Roz and Harvey’s lives fit together, how _they_ fit together. They fit together in a way she and Harvey never had.

“Your blessing means a lot,” Roz said sincerely. “Really, Sabrina.”

“You have it,” Sabrina assured her. “And… I have something to share with you… That I hope will have your blessing…”

“Go on,” Roz encouraged. Sabrina braced herself.

“I withdrew from law school.”

Roz stared.

“What?”

“I withdrew from law school,” Sabrina repeated. “Two weeks ago.”

“But…” Roz was genuinely surprised. “You were almost done…”

“I know it’s crazy,” Sabrina said. “But my heart wasn’t in it, Roz. I only decided to go to law school because that’s what I heard my whole life. ‘She’ll be a lawyer one day.’ It seemed like the thing I was supposed to do, what everyone expected I would do. I was struggling in some of classes – most of my classes, honestly – and one of my professors outright told me I lacked passion and questioned my desire to uphold the law for the entirety of my career.”

“You shouldn’t let one person…”

“It wasn’t one person,” Sabrina shook her head. “Even Nick asked me if I really wanted to be a lawyer. It was something I was thinking about in quiet moments anyway, but then the universe seemed to align and make it crystal clear to me.”

“What are you doing now?” Roz continued her questions.

“Dancing. I’m teaching dance at the studio. I love it, Roz.” Roz saw it, the way Sabrina’s eyes lightened, how her body language shifted to more relaxed at the confession. “I love the little preschool ballerinas who have absolutely no idea what they’re doing, but they call me ‘Miss Sabrina’ and they try so hard and give me hugs before and after class. I love when schools let out for the day and the kids come to dance. I’m choreographing a couple of routines for the winter recital and I just… I love it, Roz. And I missed it. I missed being in the studio so much.”

Roz sat back in her chair and smiled at Sabrina.

“Wow,” she stated. “I haven’t seen you this passionate about something since you showed up at my house ranting about your aunt marrying Father Blackwood.”

“That was passionate in a bad way,” Sabrina reminded her. “Ambrose and I tried to _Parent Trap_ that wedding into not happening. And failed epically.”

“Yes, you did,” Roz chuckled at the memory. Ambrose and Sabrina had left no stone unturned in their attempts to foil the wedding and had been all but dragged to the church the day of the ceremony. Hilda had sat between them and put her hands over their mouths when the preacher asked if there were any objections. The cake had mysteriously fallen over at the reception. To this day, neither Ambrose nor Sabrina had claimed responsibility.

“This is passion in a good way. The best way.”

“If you’re happy, I’m happy,” Roz approved. “With both dance and Nick.”

“Thank you, Roz,” Sabrina said with genuine gratitude. “This has been the year of rocking the boat of my life. It means a lot to have you in my corner.”

Roz stretched her hand out and covered Sabrina’s.

“You’re my best friend,” she reminded her. “I’ll always be in your corner.” She took her hand back and picked up her drink, a fruity margarita Nick had concocted just for them. “It doesn’t hurt that your boyfriend makes drink like this.”

“It’s good, right?” Sabrina asked, taking a sip of her own.

“So good,” Roz confirmed. “What did your aunts say about law school?”

“Hilda is completely supportive. She said she had been waiting for me to confess I didn’t want to be a lawyer. Zelda, however…”

“Did she rage?” Roz guessed.

“Worse. She said nothing.” Roz cringed. A silent Zelda was a dangerous Zelda. “She had a few choice words when I told them over breakfast and then… nothing. For a long time.”

“And then?”

“And then she erupted after dinner a couple of nights later. Ambrose literally sprinted out of the mortuary. Hilda hovered in the doorway, but I think it was so she could either put out the fire if Zelda erupted into flames or call 911 if she tried to kill me. I think she might be coming around, but I’m giving her a wide berth at the moment.” She took a sip of her drink. “Nick told me he was proud of me. That meant – everything.”

“He supports you,” Roz approved. “I like him more and more.”

The pair continued to chat, catching one another up and even Facetiming Theo and Robin for a few minutes with a spotty connection from their hostel in Ecuador. They were gathering their things to call it a night when Nick approached.

“All done?” Sabrina asked.

“All done,” Nick confirmed. It was his early night and he had hoped to catch Sabrina before she left. He had hinted at wanting her to come home with him when he was making their drinks earlier, but she had only given him a teasing smile in response. “How was the margarita, Roz?”

“Amazing,” she stated. “If I weren’t driving, I would have had at least two more.”

“Next time,” Nick said. He escorted them outside and waited patiently while Sabrina and Roz hugged goodbye. “My turn,” he announced when Roz parted ways with them in the parking lot. He pulled her into his arms. “I’ve been wanting to do this since you walked into the bar three hours ago.”

“I’ve been wanting to do this since I walked into the bar three hours ago.” She kissed him. He chuckled against her lips and kissed her back.

“Let’s get out of here,” he suggested.

“You sending me home already, Scratch?” Sabrina asked.

“You know you’re coming back to my place, Spellman.” He poked her sides, making her jump and giggle.

“I wasn’t going to assume.” She had been spending a lot of nights with Nick lately. She didn’t mind, and he certainly didn’t seem to.

“This is a very safe assumption.” He kissed her again, then took her hand, intending to escort her to her car so she could follow him to his place.

“Scratch, hey!”

Nick stopped and looked in the direction his name came from. He recognized one of his classmates. He dropped Sabrina’s hand. She shot him a curious look.

“Adam, hey,” he greeted. “How’s it going?”

“Solid,” Adam nodded. “You heading out?”

“I am,” Nick confirmed. “Someone else is going to have to pour for you tonight.”

“I suppose I’ll make it,” Adam said dramatically. Nick chuckled and shoved his hands in his pockets. He liked the guy well enough, but he didn’t really want to stand around making small talk. Adam nodded at Sabrina. “And who’s this?”

Nick seemed to remember Sabrina then.

“Oh! This is my…,” the word ‘girlfriend’ stuck in his throat. Sabrina raised an eyebrow at him, waiting. “…my… Sabrina.”

“Sabrina,” Adam repeated. “I’m Adam. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Sabrina said with a tight smile and far more polite than she felt like being in the moment. Adam sensed he had walked into something.

“I’m going to head inside, find my friends,” he said. “See you in class next week, Nick. Sabrina, nice to meet you.” He continued past them to the bar. Sabrina didn’t wait for Nick. She started towards her car.

“In a hurry?” Nick asked, taking a couple of quick steps to catch up with her.

“It’s time for me to go home,” she stated. She kept walking. Nick realized then that she was upset. He frowned.

“Hey, stop for a second.” He caught her by the elbow. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“What am I to you, Nick?” she asked as she whirled to faced him. Nick’s frown deepened.

“I thought we established that…”

“I thought we did, too,” Sabrina nodded. “But I just realized, when you practically choked on the word ‘girlfriend,’ that you have not actually referred to me as your girlfriend once, not even when we were sitting on your couch having the conversation in which I asked if you were my boyfriend.”

“Sabrina…”

“Right now, I feel more like the girl you sleep with,” she informed him, not letting him get a word in. “I think you can go home alone tonight. And if you don’t want to? Well, I suggest turning around and going back into that bar. You don’t have a girlfriend, shouldn’t be too hard for you to find someone to go home with you.”

Nick ran a hand through his hair. Sabrina had called him out. She wasn’t wrong, exactly. She was his girlfriend – or at least, she had been until a few minutes ago – but he struggled to put the word out there. Despite his best efforts, commitment still terrified him. But so did the idea of her going home angry at him. He had to try to salvage this.

“You are my,” he hesitated, “girlfriend…”

Sabrina sighed and shook her head. He couldn’t even say it to just her. She turned on her heel, intending to leave him in the parking lot. He caught her around the wrist.

“Hey, don’t walk away.” Even he heard the desperation in his tone. “I’m sorry, Sabrina. This whole having a girlfriend thing is new for me.”

“Why is it so hard for you?” Sabrina asked, her patience gone. “If I’m your girlfriend, why is it so hard for you to say it?” Nick felt like his whole body was trembling. He needed to be honest with her, but the words just didn’t seem to want to come out, even as his mouth moved to form the words he needed to say. “I’m trying to understand, Nick.” Her tone had changed. It was gentler now, the edge less sharp. “I’ve picked up that there’s more going on with you than you’re willing to talk about.”

“I’ve never had a girlfriend,” Nick reminded her. “Again, this is new for me, Sabrina, and for better or worse, it scares me.” He tentatively took her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m doing my best. It may not look like it, but I swear to you, I’m giving you all I’ve got.”

He was being honest, and Sabrina could sense that. The problem was that she still didn’t understand why being in a relationship scared him so much.

“What scares you?” she asked. “You have to talk to me, Nick, because that’s the only way this is going to work.”

“Why don’t we go back to my place?” he proposed. “We can talk there.” Sabrina shook her head.

“If we leave here with this unresolved, it’s not going to get resolved. You’re pushing this off.”

Again, she had accurately called him out. He desperately wanted to cut and run, but he couldn’t, not with the risk of losing Sabrina. It was a constant push and pull. He wanted to be with her, wanted their relationship. But he kept pushing her away, often without meaning to or realizing he was doing it, because he couldn’t get out of his own way.

“It’s been just me for a long time,” he shared. “I’m used to operating alone. I’m trying, harder than you know, to be good at this. I’m asking for you to be patient with me.”

“You’re not doing badly at it,” Sabrina told him. He wasn’t. Overall, he was good boyfriend. She had just finished telling Roz as much. “But it felt like you were, I don’t know, embarrassed to admit I was your girlfriend or something. You dropped my hand like I burned you when your friend said your name.” Nick frowned.

“Embarrassed?” he repeated. “Hardly.” The idea was laughable. “When I’m with you, I feel like the single luckiest guy in the world. I wonder how in the absolute hell I get to be the one by your side, because I assure you, you are too damned good for me.” He bit his lip, much like she did when she was worrying or preparing to say something important. “Honestly? I’m waiting for you to figure that out, and I’m afraid this might be that moment.”

Sabrina softened. She could see it a little more now, how insecure Nick actually was when it came to her and their relationship. For reasons he wasn’t sharing, he didn’t seem to think he was worthy of her. She didn’t understand it, but she was willing to cut him some slack tonight. He had given her a little more and she was learning that was how he operated – a little bit at a time, in his own time. He was challenging her to be patient, a virtue Zelda often told her she could use more of. Nick was certainly proving that fact to be true.

“I don’t believe that,” she informed him. “That I’m too good for you.” She took a step towards him. “You have so much to offer, Nick. I admit that I don’t understand why this relationship scares you so much, but it doesn’t have to. I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m worried I’m going to hurt you,” he confessed. “I already did tonight, by not introducing you as my girlfriend.”

“That did hurt,” Sabrina admitted. She noted how Nick’s face fell. “But only because I care about you so much.” She took another step. There was little space between them now. Nick still had her hand. He tightened his hold on it, just in case she decided to pull away. “I’m in this Nick, if you are.”

“I’m all in,” he assured her. “It scares the hell out of me, Sabrina, but so does the idea of not being with you.” He cupped her cheek with his free hand and brushed his thumb along her cheekbone. “You’re my girlfriend.” It was a little easier to say this time. “I’ll walk in and introduce you to Adam as such, if you want.”

Sabrina shook her head with a hint of a smile.

“No need for those dramatics,” she told him. “Still want me to come home with you?”

“I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t,” he admitted. “Not tonight.” In his head, he thought if he let her go home, that would be the end of them, even if he also knew that wasn’t true. “No sex tonight though. I just want to sleep next you.”

“Okay,” Sabrina agreed. “I’ll come home with you.”

Nick felt relieved. He kissed her forehead.

“Thank you.”

He used the drive home to pull himself together. He thought about everything his therapist had talked through with him recently, how she insisted he needed to open up to Sabrina, let her in. Tonight, he had experienced a real moment of fear when he thought she might actually walk away. He didn’t like the feeling. The thought of it made him glance in the rearview mirror to make sure she was still behind him, that she hadn’t changed her mind and driven home.

“I need to be better,” he said out loud, vowing to be a better boyfriend. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “I can do this.”

At his apartment, they were quiet as they got ready for bed. She used the toothbrush he had bought for her that first night she stayed with him and it reminded her that he cared about her, that he really was trying. Some of the remaining tension she felt towards him fell away.

Nick was cautious as he joined her in bed a few minutes later. He turned the lamp off to pitch them into darkness, then shifted onto his side to face her, his mind made up.

“Sabrina?”

She moved to mirror him.

“Nick?”

He brushed his fingers along her cheek.

“I sleep better when you’re here.”

She didn’t know it, but he was opening up to her. To her, it was a small admission. To him, it was a monumental moment of letting someone in. His therapist, his grandmother, and Michael were the only ones who knew what he was about to share with her.

“I have insomnia,” he continued. “Or, well, maybe not so much insomnia as I avoid falling asleep because when I do, I have nightmares.” His fingers continued to smooth over her fair skin. His therapist made it sound like telling Sabrina things would be easy. She was incredibly wrong. It was terrifying. “When you’re here, it’s not as hard for me to fall asleep and stay that way. I don’t have those bad dreams. If I do, they don’t wake me up and I don’t remember them in the morning.”

“What do you dream about?” Sabrina asked.

“My parents mostly,” he shared. “My dad especially.”

He couldn’t bring himself to tell her more. He needed this to be enough for the night.

“Why don’t you come over here then?” Sabrina rolled to her back and opened her arms to Nick. He stayed where he was.

“You come here,” he tried.

Sabrina saw right through him. He was resisting being any more vulnerable than he already had been that night. If he held her, he was in charge. He had some control. If he allowed her to hold him, he was letting her in just a little more. She thought he needed the comfort tonight, even if he didn’t see it, even if she still had more questions than answers.

“No,” she shook her head. “You said you sleep better when I’m here. I’m going to make sure that’s so. I’m holding you tonight, Nick.”

He hesitated. She waited him out. He finally moved over to her and rested his head on her chest. She wrapped her arms around him and ran her hands through his curls. She didn’t say anything further. She just held him. She felt the tension as it left him and his body started to relax. He moved a little closer, allowing himself to be soothed by her. Soon enough, he was asleep.

She eventually drifted off to sleep herself, her mind full of thoughts and best guesses about what was going on with Nicholas Scratch.

* * *

Nick couldn’t focus.

Two weeks.

Somehow, he had gone from months to sixteen days – just over two weeks – to make not the biggest decision of his life, but certainly one of the biggest. It was his own fault that he was in this place, that he had allowed it to get this far. He could have taken care of this months ago. Maybe if he had, he would have been in a totally different place. Maybe it would have been easier for him to let Sabrina in, to even form friendships.

He had to make decisions. He couldn’t put it off any longer.

Technically, he reasoned, he _could._

He could do nothing and be rid of it. Part of him wanted to do that. Part of him wanted to just walk away from it all, full on start over. But another part of him couldn’t let it go. He was torn right down the middle, and nothing he tried, not even the pro-con list he had scratched out while studying earlier, seemed to help him make a final decision.

“Mr. Scratch?”

Nick startled and brought his attention back to his professor.

“Yes, sir?”

“I’d like your opinion on Marx.”

Nick took a deep breath. Rarely did he struggle in class, but today, he fumbled through his answer and the professor punished him for it, continuing to fire questions at him and make him prove his mettle. By the time class was over, his head hurt.

“That was rough,” Ambrose commented as he caught up to Nick after class.

“We both know Peterman can be an asshole,” Nick grumbled.

“Try being his TA,” Ambrose agreed, referring to the reason he was in the class to begin with. “All the classes I could have TA’d and I got his.” He glanced at Nick. He looked stressed, distracted, unlike the put together anthropology Ph.D. he usually was. “Everything okay, Scratch?”

“I could use a week of sleep, maybe an extra month of time.”

“Doctorial life,” Ambrose nodded. “I feel that.”

It wasn’t the pursuit of a doctorate that made him want for more time. Schoolwork was one of the only things Nick found solace in these days.

Schoolwork and Sabrina.

“With that thought, I think I’m going to head home and take a nap before my shift at Dorian’s.”

Nick bid Ambrose goodbye and headed back to his apartment. He didn’t normally go home between school and work, but today, he wanted to hide away for a while, escape the world. He laid across his bed and typed out a text to Sabrina for no other reason than she was on his mind.

_Having a rough day. I could use a few minutes with my girlfriend._

Too honest.

He deleted the text and started over.

_Thinking about you. Could use a hug…_

That sounded pathetic. He deleted it.

_Today sucks. Come over and make it better?_

He deleted that one too. Asking her to come over because he was having a bad day would mean having to share _why_ he was having a bad day and that was a stone he didn’t want to overturn. Instead, he laid there, eyes on the ceiling, thinking about everything and nothing all at once.

He fell asleep without meaning to.

_His parents stood across from him, bloodied and bruised and wearing matching shades of disappointment._

_Between them, there was a wide metal table. On it lay two bodies. He didn’t dare look down. He kept his eyes on his parents._

_“Look what you did, Nicholas,” his mother said._

_“No,” Nick shook his head. His fear filled the room. “I can’t.’_

_“Look!” his father demanded._

_“No,” Nick shook his head more violently. “Please, don’t make me.”_

_He was practically begging._

_“Look!”_

_“Look at them!”_

_“Look at what you did!”_

_“Look! Look! Look!”_

_They started chanting, the word “look” bouncing around the room, growing louder and louder. He closed his eyes and begged them to stop. He covered his ears with his hands and screwed his eyes shut even tighter._

_They chanted louder, his hands doing nothing to stop the noise from making its way to him._

_“Fine!” he bellowed when he couldn’t take it any longer. “Fine! I’ll look!”_

_They stopped chanting and watched him, waiting. He looked down._

_His parents’ bodies lay on the table, blue and lifeless, covered in dried blood. He began to tremble._

_“No,” he shook his head. “No, no, no, no….”_

_“See what you did?” his father asked. Nick raised his eyes to the version of his father standing next to the table._

_“I didn’t…”_

_“You did,” his mother nodded. “Look at my body, Nicholas. Look what became of me.”_

_Nick had no choice but to look down at the bodies on the table once more, this time taken in the unnatural bend of his mother’s left arm, her bloodied pink dress._

_His mother’s form began to morph. He frowned, but then his eyes widened in horror as Sabrina’s body began to take shape where his mother’s had been._

_“Sabrina?”_

_She was perfect, flawless, not a wound in sight. But her fair skin was ashen, her eyes open and lifeless._

_“Sabrina?” He reached out and placed a gentle hand on her. She didn’t respond. He shook her. “Sabrina!”_

_Nothing._

_His eyes began to water._

_“No,” he said again. “No. She’s fine… She’s fine… Sabrina!”_

_“Look what you did,” said his mother. He looked up at her again. She looked heartless as she looked back at him, nothing like the kind, caring woman he knew her to be. “You did that, Nicholas.”_

_“Sabrina!” he begged. He shook her harder. “Sabrina!”_

_His eyes caught sight of what had been his father’s body moments earlier. Sabrina was there, too, also unresponsive._

_His tears came hard and fast._

_“You did that, Nicholas,” his father said. “You killed her.”_

_“I didn’t,” Nick insisted. He grasped the hand of the Sabrina closest to him and reached across her body to take a hand of the other as well. “I didn’t do this. She’s fine. She was fine…”_

_“You did it,” his mother insisted. “You killed her. Just like you killed us.”_

Nick bolted upright. His breath was rapid, his heart fast. He was drenched in sweat and his entire body shook.

“No,” he shook his head. “No. It was just a dream.”

He sat on the edge of his bed for several minutes, trying to breathe, to calm down. He told himself over and over that it was just a dream. When he felt more collected, he reached for his phone, intending to text Sabrina, just to ease his mind. She had already texted him.

_Remind me I love teaching my preschoolers?_

He smiled in spite of how he was feeling. There, on his phone, was proof that she was okay.

 _You love teaching your preschoolers,_ he texted back. _Come to the bar tonight?_

_Only if you promise to make me a strong drink._

_I’ll work my magic._

He was watching the text bubbles that told him she was replying when his grandmother’s name filled his screen. He blew out a breath and tapped to answer. It would do him no good to ignore her and in the moment, he wanted – needed – to hear a familiar voice.

“Hi, Grandma,” he greeted with a heavy sigh. “I know why you’re calling, but please, don’t rip into me. Not right now.”

Amalia heard the distress in her grandson’s voice.

“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly.

“I fell asleep, had a nightmare.”

“Oh, Nicholas,” she sighed. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“No,” he shook his head. His grandmother would be beside herself if she found out he had a girlfriend. She would worry that much more if she knew his dreams had shifted to include Sabrina. He wanted to tell her about Sabrina, just not right now, not when he was raw from his nightmare. “I just… Can’t take much more today.”

It was brutally honest. His dream had broken him. He glanced at the clock. He had to be at the bar in an hour. It was the last place he wanted to be.

“Perhaps you need some rest,” Amalia chanced. “School, working at that bar, whatever else you’re getting into…”

“Did you hear the part where I had a nightmare when I took a nap?”

“You can’t avoid sleep, Nicholas,” she said.

“I know, Grandma.” He couldn’t help the frustration in his tone. “I know I need to make some decisions for Michael, too.”

“Well, yes,” she sighed. “I’m not going to lecture you about that today.”

“There’s one benefit of fessing up that I had a nightmare,” Nick grumbled.

“Are you working tonight?” she wondered.

“I’m on the schedule, yeah.”

“You know I don’t approve of that job of yours.”

“I’m well aware.”

“I ran into my old friend Francis at the store today,” she said, changing the subject. “Do you remember her?

He hung up after a few more minutes of mostly listen to his grandmother ramble on in an effort to keep him on the phone and ran his hand through his hair. He didn’t want to go behind the bar tonight. He didn’t want to force himself to be social, to be the charming bartender he was supposed to be.

He waffled for a few minutes, then called Dorian to beg out of work. Dorian was a little too gracious, which made Nick suspicious, but he didn’t think too much about it, grateful it had been that easy. He checked the time and chanced a call to Sabrina.

“Hey,” she greeted, a bit breathless. “I’ve only got a minute. Class is about to start.”

“I know. I just wanted to tell you I called out of work. I’m not feeling great.”

“Are you sick?” Sabrina asked, concern clear. “What’s wrong? Do you need anything?”

It touched Nick to know there was someone who cared about him. It had been a long time.

“I’m exhausted.” It was the truth. He was both mentally and physically done for. “Come over after you teach? I don’t know if I’m going to be the best company, but I’d feel better if you were here.” He smiled a bit. “I’d certainly sleep better.”

“I’ll be there,” she assured him. “I’ll cook dinner for you.”

“No,” he shook his head. “You don’t want to come here after teaching all evening to cook me dinner. I’ll order Chinese. Or Thai or Indian, if you’d prefer that.”

“I think you want Chinese,” Sabrina observed guessing right. “That’s fine by me.”

“Okay. Call me when you leave the studio to give me your order and I’ll call it in.”

Nick ended the call and fell back on the bed. He had a few hours before Sabrina would be there. As much as he wanted to take another nap, he wouldn’t allow himself. He wasn’t willing to take the risk of having another nightmare. Seeing Sabrina dead once was enough.

He pushed off the bed and wandered into his living room. He found his laptop and settled down on the couch, content to do some research for a paper until Sabrina got there. The time moved too slow for his liking, but finally, Sabrina’s call came through. He ordered their meal and was waiting for her outside when she arrived.

“How are you feeling?” she asked as she climbed the stairs.

“Better now that you’re here.” He enveloped her in his arms. She could feel in his embrace that there was something bothering him that had nothing to do with exhaustion. She hugged him back to comfort him. “I needed this.”

“Is everything okay?” She pulled back enough to look up at him. His features were tense, his easy smile nowhere to be found. “You look worried.”

“There’s a lot on my mind,” he offered. He held her hand and led her inside. “The food should be here in a few minutes.”

“Anything you want to talk about?” Sabrina chanced as she joined him on the couch.

“I tried to take a nap earlier,” he confessed. “Or I guess, I didn’t so much try to as I fell asleep without meaning to. I had a nightmare that really messed with me.” He drew her into his side. He needed the contact. “You were in it this time.”

“What happened?” she asked gently.

“It was just a dream,” he shook his head. “It shook me up, but it was just a dream.”

He leaned in to kiss her. Sabrina wanted to push for more, to ask what had happened in that dream that had clearly shaken him up so much, but she sensed he wasn’t going to talk, that him asking her to come over was another milestone for him.

“You can talk to me,” she reminded him when he pulled away.

“I know,” he nodded. “I’m just glad you’re here.” A knock sounded on the door. “That must be the food.” He pecked her lips and quickly got up to answer the door. Sabrina blew out a breath and stood as well to head to the kitchen.

She was trying to be patient with him as he navigated his first relationship, but it was hard for her to be in this place, where she wanted to help Nick, support him, but he kept pushing her away, pulling her back in, this time a little closer, just to push her out again when something – never something known to her – set him back. She knew it was a big deal that he had admitted to having a nightmare that included her. She tried to let that be enough, but he had practically sprinted for the door when the food arrived, the interruption perfectly timed to keep her questions at bay. Whatever happened in that nightmare had something to do with his past and she wanted to know about it, about him.

“This is yours,” he said, reading the markings on the box in his hand. “Egg roll?”

“Please,” Sabrina nodded. She busied herself with pouring them both something to drink – she had noted that Nick made more of an effort to keep groceries these days, and she had a feeling that had something to do with her – but she glanced at him and saw the worried expression he wore. She took a big breath. She had to come clean. “Nick?”

“Yeah?” He was still opening boxes of food.

“When I was here the other week, the day I dropped out of school?” Nick nodded, his suspicions rising. “I noticed – legal papers – on your coffee table.” Nick closed his eyes and exhaled. “I didn’t look at them – I swear I didn’t, and I’ll confess, it was _really_ hard for me to not look – but if you’re in some kind of trouble…”

“I’m not in trouble,” Nick shook his head. “I swear. It’s stuff with my parents’ assets.” He put the carton in his hand down and turned to Sabrina, deciding this was another moment for honesty. “As their only child, everything was left to me, but I need to sign papers to take control.” He drummed his fingers on the counter. “I’ve been putting it off for a long time and I’m running out of time to make decisions. I’ve got sixteen days before I forfeit everything, and it goes into a trust no one can touch.”

“Why are you putting it off?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I may not have a law degree, but I do have a good amount of legal knowledge now rendered useless… If I can help…”

“It’s not that,” Nick shook his head. “I’ve got Michael, remember?”

“Your godfather,” Sabrina nodded.

“He’s good at his job. It’s literally as simple as me signing some things. I just… Don’t know if that’s what I want to do.”

“Why?” Sabrina asked. Nick shook his head again.

“It’s complicated, Sabrina.”

“Then explain it to me.” She was gentle in her delivery. She wanted him to talk to her, to explain what was going on so she could help.

“I’m not sure I want their assets,” Nick said. “It’s as simple as that.”

“Is it?” she questioned.

They both knew it wasn’t, but Nick nodded anyway.

“It is,” he said. “Can we not talk about this anymore? I really just want to spend the evening with my girlfriend. Just us, sitting on the couch, eating crap food and not thinking about the rest of the world.”

“Okay,” Sabrina agreed with some hesitation. “If that’s what you need, that’s what we’ll do.”

“That’s what I need,” Nick confirmed. “Just you, me, the couch, and this Chinese food.”

She followed him to the couch with her cartons of food and got comfortable next to him.

There was a lot more going on.

She was certain of that.

“Thank you for coming over, Sabrina,” he said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “That dream…” He blew out a breath and blinked away the image of her lifeless body that appeared before his eyes. “It shook me up.”

“I’m here,” she reminded him. “And I don’t mean just right now, in this moment. I’m here for you, Nick. Whether it’s to comfort you after a nightmare or to celebrate that ‘A’ you said you got on that paper on language origins.”

Nick put his carton on the coffee table and reached for hers. She let him take it. He didn’t say anything as he pulled her into his arms. He kissed her hair and held her close. She wrapped her arms around him, brushed her lips along his jaw, and rested her head on his shoulder, content. Nick let his head lull against hers. She was there, in his arms, safe and sound. His nightmare was just that – a nightmare.

He tightened his arms around her.

Just to make sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little girl talk, a little of Nick being skittish, a little of him sharing something that seems small to Sabrina but that's really big to him... Which she figured out and made him let her hold him. And then a nightmare that shook Nick to his core. He's a bit frustrating for Sabrina - and all of us - right now, but it won't be much longer before we get to the bottom of things.
> 
> Next chapter... Well, I can't really give any hints that wouldn't be a spoiler. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought - and your interpretation of Nick's nightmare!


	15. Exile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warning* - things get a little bit dark. Not too dark, but if you've experienced suicide in any form, know that it will be alluded to below. 
> 
> Here we go.

_I think I've seen this film before_   
_And I didn't like the ending_   
_You're not my homeland anymore_   
_So what am I defending now?_   
_You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out_   
_I think I've seen this film before_

Ambrose eyed Sabrina. She dutifully paid him no attention, furthering his suspicions that something was going on with her.

“Spill it,” he stated.

Sabrina looked up from the popcorn bowl she had been staring into.

“What?”

“Spill it,” Ambrose said again. “You’ve been gazing into that bowl for twenty minutes. The kernels have popped, Sabrina. They aren’t going back onto the cob, no matter how hard you stare at them.”

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Clearly.”

“I don’t even know what movie you put on.”

“Obviously.” He picked up the remote, paused the movie, and gave Sabrina his full attention. “Tell me all about it.” Sabrina continued to look at him. “Sabrina, you know you want to.” That was her. She didn’t keep things to herself. She talked them out, usually with him, whether he wanted her to share or not. “Tell cousin Ambrose all about it.”

Sabrina gave it up.

“Nick is hiding something from me,” she all but blurted out.

She had been stewing on the oddities of the previous night all day, thinking of how unlike himself Nick had been, how he had sounded so down on the phone, called out of work, clung to her when she arrived. He had shared a bit about his parents and his nightmares, but she knew there was so much more. Whatever it was, it was weighing on him tremendously and she was at a loss as to how to help him. She didn’t want to push him over the metaphorical edge, but she just wasn’t the kind of girl to sit on the sidelines obediently either.

“Thought it might be about Mr. Scratch,” Ambrose nodded. “What’s brought you to this conclusion, cousin?”

Sabrina was careful in her wording. She didn’t want to share too much, given how reserved Nick was with the limited information she knew about him. She had a feeling it would make things worse if she told Ambrose what she did know.

“He’s got some stuff going on,” she said. “He assures me it’s not bad, but he’s just not sharing whatever is going on with him. I’m worried.”

“He did seem a little off in class yesterday,” Ambrose mused.

“Really?” Sabrina shifted so she could better see Ambrose. “He called out of work too. He asked me to come over, said he was exhausted. I went to his place after dance. We ordered Chinese, watched a movie, and went to bed early.”

“He mentioned being exhausted to me, too,” Ambrose said. “He’s a Ph.D. candidate, Sabrina. I’m in my third year, but I remember my first year, particularly my first semester, all too well. It’s a tough transition, no matter how much you enjoy the subject matter. And trust me, Nicholas really loves the subject matter.”

“I think there’s more than his doctoral workload,” Sabrina shook her head. “We had an argument last week because he couldn’t say the word ‘girlfriend’ when introducing me to someone. He’s made a few references to not being good enough for me and when we first met, he was always saying things like ‘you’re breaking all my rules’ and ‘I’m not a good guy.’ There’s something going on with him, and he won’t talk to me. I don’t know what to do, Ambrose.”

“You really care about him,” Ambrose observed.

“I do,” Sabrina said without hesitation. “I might even be falling in love with him. But I know he’s hiding something and until he comes clean, I just don’t know if I can fully trust him.”

“He treats you okay?” Ambrose asked with a serious tone as he assessed the situation.

“He does,” Sabrina nodded. “It’s nothing like that, nothing to do with how he does or doesn’t treat me. He really is wonderful, Ambrose. But he’s holding back, and I don’t know how long I can wait patiently for him to decide to trust me with whatever he’s got going on.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Ambrose said after a beat. “Even you can’t make someone talk.”

“No,” Sabrina agreed. “But not for lack of trying.” She leaned back into the cushions. She wasn’t accepting defeat, exactly, but there wasn’t a lot more she could say to Ambrose on the subject without betraying Nick’s confidence and she certainly wasn’t going to get anywhere by speculating. “Push play? I promise to pay better attention this time.”

Ambrose shot her a skeptical look but did as instructed.

“ _Back to the Future_?” she shrieked a few moments later. “Really, Ambrose?”

“Remember when I asked what you wanted to watch and you said ‘I don’t care, pick something?’ Well, I picked something.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes.

“You’re watching _The Shining_ next movie night,” she informed Ambrose.

“Over my cold dead body.” Ambrose hated the movie with a flaming passion.

“I know an undertaker,” Sabrina quipped. “It can be arranged.”

“Hilda loves me more,” Ambrose stated.

“Does she though?” Sabrina countered. Ambrose only glared at her until she giggled. He chuckled and shook his head. It was an ongoing argument between them as to which one Hilda loved more.

“Zelda likes me more,” Ambrose declared.

“I’ll give you that,” Sabrina raised her soda to him. “Now stop talking and watch this horrible movie.”

They settled back into a comfortable quiet. Ambrose was entirely absorbed in the movie, but Sabrina’s mind drifted again. She wanted to help Nick with whatever was weighing him down, but she couldn’t help someone who didn’t seem to want her help, no matter how much she cared about him.

She did her best to let it go and focus on the movie.

Later, when it was over, she took their empty drink cans and dirty dishes to the kitchen, grumbling about how Ambrose had abandoned her with their mess once again. Once they were in the dishwasher, she turned to head upstairs with the intention of taking a long hot bubble bath in an effort to clear her thoughts.

“Oh my God!” she gasped, her hand flying to her chest in surprise.

“Jumpy, are we?” Zelda asked. She didn’t move from the doorframe, effectively blocking Sabrina’s way out. “Must be nice, all this free time you have now to sit around and watch movies during the week.”

“Aunt Zelda, don’t,” Sabrina shook her head. “I’m tired of arguing with you over this.”

“At ease, Sabrina.” Zelda took a few steps into the room. Sabrina remained where she was. “I’ve come to the conclusion that you are not changing your mind anytime soon.”

“I’m not,” Sabrina confirmed. “I don’t want to be a lawyer, Aunt Zee. I don’t know where dance will lead me, but for right now, it’s making me happy.”

“I know.”

Sabrina raised an eyebrow.

“You know?” she repeated. That wasn’t what she expected out of Zelda.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Zelda said in a manner that told Sabrina it was hard for her to admit defeat in the matter. “You have been rather unhappy for a while. Not miserably so, by any means, but you were going to marry a man that was wrong for you and you did give up dance to ensure time for your relationship…”

Sabrina waited. She could practically feel Hilda’s touch all over Zelda’s change of heart.

“If taking some time to figure out what you want to do with your life is what you need, I’ll support it.” Zelda raised her chin a bit. “Besides, if you decide you actually do want to be a lawyer, you can always go back to school.”

Sabrina refrained from saying she highly doubted she would ever return to law school, not when it seemed Zelda was calling a cease fire.

“This is what I need,” she said instead. “To teach dance.”

“And see where things go with your anthropologist?” Zelda chanced. Sabrina had to smile a bit. She knew Zelda liked Nick, and not just because he was handsome and well off.

“That too,” she nodded. She didn’t offer more, and Zelda didn’t ask for more. “Thank you, Zelda. I know you’re disappointed…”

“I only want what’s best for you,” Zelda said, showing her first hint of true softness. “Sometimes I forget that you’re a young woman now and try to tell you what that is, but I do trust your judgement, Sabrina. You always seem to make the right choices in the end.”

“Does that mean you are finally over me saying yes to Harvey’s proposal?” Sabrina asked with a hint of a smirk.

“That broad-shouldered bartender of yours helps,” Zelda stated. “Besides, you came to your senses and didn’t marry him.”

“Thank you, Zelda,” Sabrina said, her smile genuine. “I don’t like fighting with you.”

“And yet you certainly do like to poke the beast, so to speak.” There was a ghost of a grin on her lips all the same. She liked that Sabrina was headstrong, opinionated. It was exactly the way she had raised her to be, even if she was often on the receiving end of her niece’s antics. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have one last cigarette before I turn in.” She drifted away, towards the parlor where she liked to smoke in the evenings, usually with a book and a martini.

Sabrina shook her head in amusement and headed upstairs. It was as close as she would get to a Zelda Spellman apology and Hilda had obviously meddled to bring it about.

She would take it.

And thank Hilda in the morning.

* * *

Sabrina’s eyes rolled back as Nick’s lips worked down her jugular. They were supposed to be going to a movie, but he had kissed her and now she was considering just how much of a risk it would be to let him have her right there in his parked car on the Greendale main street in broad daylight.

“If we hurry, I can take care of that little problem building up inside of you before the movie,” he said into her ear.

“What little problem?” she breathed. He smirked like the devil he was.

“The one between your legs.”

She lunged for him and he chuckled as her lips landed on his. His hands slipped under her shirt. He didn’t want to see the damned movie in the first place, but she did and it what was supposed to be a quick stop to drop his school bag off at his apartment looked more and more like it was going to be the scene of quickie.

“You’ve got your own problem developing in the same region,” she observed as her hand skirted across his lap.

“But there’s nothing little about it,” he replied cheekily. She groaned.

“Out of this car before I do something illegal,” she stated. “I’ll even compromise and say we can miss the previews. But we need to get upstairs. Now.”

They got out of his car and tried to act casual as they walked through the alley to the staircase that would take them to his apartment. He had her by the hand, practically dragging her along. He was down to just eleven days to make decisions. He knew he had been more withdrawn lately as he grappled with the decision he needed to make. She had tried several times over to get him to talk to her, but he kept dismissing her, kept changing the subject and avoiding the truth, both with her and himself. This he could do though. He could show her how he felt about her with his body, even if the words wouldn’t come.

At the top of the stairs, he leaned in to kiss her with every intention of pressing her against his door and having his way with her the moment they were inside. She returned his kiss with an eagerness he had grown to recognize as desire. She glanced towards his apartment to see how much further they had to go before she could tear his clothes off.

Her eyes widened and she pulled back with a soft gasp.

“What…” Nick followed her gaze.

His veins ran cold.

There, standing in front of his door wearing a look of not disapproval, exactly, but certainly unamused, was his grandmother.

“Grandma,” he stammered. “What… What are you… Why are you here?”

Next to him, Sabrina wiped at her lips, feeling awkward and embarrassed. Nick remembered she was there and dropped her hand. She looked at him in confusion, but Nick’s eyes were on his grandmother.

“I was concerned,” Amalia informed him. “You haven’t answered nor returned my calls and the last time we spoke you were rather upset. Frankly, I thought I might need to make sure you were alive.” Her eyes moved to the girl next to him. She was pretty, she observed, and entirely uncomfortable. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to the lovely lady by your side?”

“Oh, um…” Nick looked from his grandmother to Sabrina and back again. “This is…” Again, ‘girlfriend’ stuck in his throat. “She’s Sabrina.”

His grandmother gave him a look and shook her head in dismay. She stepped forward and extended her hand to Sabrina. The girl couldn’t quite hide the hurt expression on her features at the way Nick had introduced her.

“I’m Amalia Scratch,” she introduced herself as Sabrina cautiously took the woman’s elegant hand. “Nicholas’ grandmother. I assure you he was raised to have better manners than the ones he’s exhibiting right now.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Scratch,” Sabrina said politely. Again, she looked to Nick for an explanation. He looked as though he wanted to disappear. “I’m a – friend – of Nick’s.”

Her use of the word ‘friend’ was intentional, and Nick knew it. He cringed and tried to ward off the nausea that threatened to roll over him. Not only was his grandmother present, he had once again denied Sabrina as his girlfriend. Somehow, he had gone from moments away from having what promised to be a passionate romp with Sabrina to fighting the urge to run away from the scene.

“You seem to be a very good friend,” Amalia observed although there was no disapproval in her tone. “I’ve obviously interrupted something, but my grandson hasn’t been the most communicative as of late and I felt the need to check on him.”

“You could have called…”

“I did,” Amalia reminded him pointedly. “Several times over. You chose not to answer and so, here I am.”

“We were going to a movie,” Nick stumbled for words. “To see a movie.”

“As one typically does at the movies,” Amalia nodded at his babble. “Although it seems the movie start time isn’t imminent, based on your arrival here.”

Sabrina decided it was time for her to leave and let Nick and his grandmother sort out whatever they needed to sort out. She had no idea what was going on, but she did know she was the odd woman out.

“I’m going to go,” she said. “Leave you two to…”

“No!” Nick spoke quickly. “No, don’t leave.” He thought fast. “Um, I guess… Grandma, now isn’t a good time…”

Amalia raised an eyebrow at his attempt to dismiss her, but Sabrina beat her to speaking.

“She traveled all this way,” she said to Nick. “Spend time with your grandmother. I’ll – be around.”

“No.” Nick took ahold of her by the elbow. Preventing her from leaving suddenly felt like the most important thing in the world. “No, we’re going to a movie.”

His head was spinning. His grandmother’s surprise visit had shaken him. She wasn’t there for a friendly visit either and he knew Sabrina was likely upset with him too for once again failing to call her his girlfriend, not to mention being entirely in the dark about what was unfolding before her. He needed to salvage things. He took a breath. He could do this. He could control the situation.

“Grandma, where are you staying?” he asked. “It’s just that my apartment isn’t very big…”

“Don’t worry, Nicholas, I have a room at the inn down the way.” Amalia eyed him, seeing right through his attempts to put some space between him and her. “You’re not going to put me off that easily, young man.”

“I really think I should go,” Sabrina tried again.

“Sabrina, stay.” He didn’t look at her, but his grip tightened a bit. “Okay. Let’s go inside for a minute. Grandma, you can see where I live, because I know you want to, and then Sabrina and I can drop you off at the inn on our way to the movie. You and I can have breakfast or something tomorrow morning.”

“Nick, I don’t think a movie is a good idea,” Sabrina said. She was beginning to wonder if Nick even heard her. It was as though something had overtaken him, and he wasn’t hearing her or his grandmother. He was operating from some foreign place inside himself, a place that had been locked behind a glass door and labeled “in case of emergency.” Amalia’s appearance had been enough for him to grab the plastic hammer to shatter it and gain entry.

“Come inside,” he said to both of them.

Nick finally let go of Sabrina. He fumbled with the keys, trying twice to unlock the door before he managed it. He disappeared inside without waiting for them.

“I’m sorry,” Sabrina apologized to Amalia. She wasn’t sure why she was apologizing, but it felt like the right thing to do. The woman put a comforting hand on Sabrina’s arm.

“It’s not you, dear,” she assured the girl with a small but kind smile. “It’s not me, either.”

She entered the apartment. Sabrina hesitated, but found herself stepping inside behind her.

“It’s not as messy as I expected it to be,” Amalia observed.

“I keep it tidy,” Nick said. He came to Sabrina. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m getting rid of her.”

“No,” Sabrina shook her head. “She traveled all this way…”

“How did the pair of you meet?” Amalia asked, trying to decipher what was going on between them. She knew her grandson was a bit of a Casanova, but this Sabrina girl didn’t look like the type that he usually went for. Nothing about her looked like she would go home with him for just the night, not even when they were all over each other as they came up the stairs. She knew, too, that Nick didn’t go on dates, nor did he bring his conquests back to his apartment.

This girl wasn’t just a girl.

“At school,” Nick said quickly.

“At Dorian’s,” Sabrina corrected, giving him a look.

“Ah, that bar,” Amalia said in a disapproving tone that Sabrina didn’t understand. There was plenty of debauchery at Dorian’s, but from what Sabrina knew, Nick didn’t participate in any of it. Which, she realized in the moment, was a red flag in and of itself. The rest of the staff was generally right in the thick of things. She knew Nick didn’t drink, but she should have questioned why aside from ‘tired of waking up with a hungover.’ There was more to that story. There seemed to be more to most of his stories. “And how long have you been dating?”

“I mean, we’re not… Or, we are, but it’s not…” Nick fumbled for words the way a small child might try to deny eating a cookie with chocolate smeared across their face. “She’s my… friend…”

Something snapped inside of Sabrina at hearing him call her his ‘friend’ yet again.

Whatever Nick’s problems were, he wasn’t willing to let her be a part of them. He wasn’t willing to let her in. He would sleep with her. He would take her on dates. He would be sweet, thoughtful. He would listen to her and hold her hand. But all of that was superficial. She had shared her heart with him, but he had kept his to himself. The connection she thought they had was no more than surface level, physical, at least for him. Or, perhaps, that was as deep as he was willing to allow it to go. She released a long breath, her mind made up.

“I’m leaving,” she said once more, not willing to make a scene in front of his grandmother. “Mrs. Scratch, it was nice to meet you.”

“Sabrina, you don’t need to leave,” Nick tried, fully recognizing he had messed up again. His thoughts were swirling. He was teetering on a dangerous edge. He knew he was going to fall. It was inevitable. But if he could hold it off just a little longer, he might be able to save some face. He just needed his thoughts to slow down enough to make sense of everything.

“Yes,” she nodded, eyes on his to let him know he was not to argue. “I do.”

She spared his grandmother a small smile. Amalia returned a sad one of her own, one that told Sabrina she understood. She thought she might like Amalia Scratch if she were ever given the chance to get to know her.

“Sabrina…” Nick followed her to the door. Sabrina held out her hand to stop him.

“Don’t,” she shook her head. Tears threatened behind her eyelids, but she refused to let them fall. “Visit with your grandmother.”

“But, Sabrina…” Nick thought fast, still determined to keep her there. “I picked you up. You don’t have a way home…”

“I’ll walk,” she told him. “You know I don’t mind.”

The fresh air might even be good for her right then.

“Sabrina…”

She heard his desperation. It tugged at her, but she was sure she needed to leave – and that he needed to stay.

“Nick, don’t,” she said again, working to hold onto her temper. “Just – don’t.”

His chest felt tight. He recognized the feeling. It had been a long time since it happened, but he didn’t know that he could fight it off, not this time, not with Sabrina walking away from him. She hadn’t said the words, but he knew. She was breaking up with him. Maye not right then, in that moment, but it was now inevitable.

“Text me when you get home?” he near pleaded. He held onto the barest thread of hope that he would still be able to salvage their relationship. “Just to let me know you’re safe?”

Sabrina merely looked at him for a long moment, then walked away. He stood in the door and watched until she disappeared down the steps. He breathed a ragged breath, then turned back to face his grandmother and whatever she had waiting for him.

“I believe that girl thought she was your girlfriend,” she observed.

“She is,” Nick rubbed at his chest as its muscles squeezed tight and didn’t release. “Or… She was… I don’t know…”

It was getting harder to breath. Amalia recognized what was happening.

“Come on, son, sit down,” she put an arm around him and guided him to the couch. His ability to think for himself was rapidly deteriorating as the panic attack took hold of him. “Take deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. You know what to do.”

It took the better part of a hour Nick to calm down. When he felt more okay, he slumped into the cushions. He felt exhausted in his very bones in the aftermath of his panic attack, his grandmother’s suddenly appearance, and Sabrina’s exit.

“What are you doing here, Grandma?” he asked wearily. “Surely you didn’t hop on a plane and fly all this way just because I ignored your phone calls.”

“That’s exactly why I came,” she said gently. “I didn’t realize you had a – friend – here, someone that would look out for you. You never mentioned her. You were upset the last time I talked to you and when I didn’t hear from you, I grew concerned.” She looked uncomfortable. “Given your past.”

“It’s nothing like that,” Nick shook his head. “I just… I know I need to make some decisions, but I had time and now I don’t…” He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. He buried his face in his hands and willed the returning panic to ebb. He didn’t think he could make it through another round so soon. Amalia rubbed his back in an effort to comfort him. “I just messed things up pretty badly with Sabrina, too.”

“Want to tell me about her?” Amalia asked.

“She was my girlfriend,” he said bluntly. “Now, I’m pretty sure she’s not. Or if she is, she won’t be much longer.”

“She doesn’t know anything, does she?”

It was a rhetorical question.

“She knows my parents died and that I need to sign some papers about their assets. And that I have nightmares.” He took another ragged breath. “I could sleep okay when she was next to me. I told her that, too. But she started appearing in my nightmares…” He shook his head. He couldn’t continue. He had searched high and low for any and all excuses to get Sabrina to stay at his place over the last few days. Anything not to see her dead, too. In the moment, he wondered if he would ever sleep through the night again without her by his side.

“Nicholas, sweetheart, I love you,” Amalia said. “I love you beyond reason. But I just don’t know how to help you anymore.”

“Maybe I’m a lost cause,” Nick replied, entirely dejected. “Maybe you should stop trying.” He shrugged. “Maybe I should stop trying.”

“Don’t you dare talk like that,” she chided. “I lost your father. I will not lose you, too.”

“I’m not going to do anything like that,” Nick shook his head again, recognizing his choice of words weren’t the best. “I just… Everything just feels like a lot right now.”

The feeling of struggling for the surface while weighted down underwater was more prevalent than ever. He could usually see light beckoning him forward when he envisioned himself in this scenario, but not this time. This time, he was just sinking deeper and deeper into the cold, dark water.

“Where’s my phone?” he wondered. He patted his pockets but remembered he had left it in his car. “It’s in my car. I need to get it.” He made to get to his feet, but Amalia stopped him.

“Sit here,” she instructed. “Your phone can wait for a few more minutes.”

“Sabrina should be home,” he shook his head. “She lives with her aunts on the edge of town. It’s a twenty-minute walk. I just want to make sure…”

“You need to sit for a few more minutes,” Amalia insisted. She had a feeling the girl hadn’t texted. She doubted she would answer if Nicholas called. It wouldn’t help him right then, to face rejection from a girl she thought he might genuinely care about. She looked too hurt to speak to him when she left. She suspected her grandson had somehow rubbed a wound that was already a bit raw. She also suspected it had something to do with the lack of the word ‘girlfriend.’

“I should make sure she got home,” he said again. “I’ll just drive over there. If she’s still walking, I’ll pick her up…”

“You’re in no state to drive,” Amalia observed his erratic behavior. It concerned her. She had seen him like this before. “You can check on Sabrina later, when you’re a little calmer.” She knew even if Nick did chase after the girl, it would do him little good to try to talk to her right then. They both needed some time.

“I don’t even know what happened,” he admitted. “Things were okay and then they weren’t…”

“I took you by surprise,” she offered.

“I’m a mess.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’ve been trying to be normal, to have a normal life, but maybe that’s not possible for me. Maybe this is punishment for – everything.”

“You have come a long way from where you were,” Amalia reminded him. “You’re not being punished, you know that. Let’s just sit here for a while, okay? I think you being still for a few minutes will do you some good.”

Nick nodded and sat back on the couch. He focused on his breathing, on trying to still his mind. He had been speeding towards this moment for a long time. His actions – or lack thereof – had driven him here. He had inevitable crashed into it at a high rate of speed, flipping a few times and bursting into flames for good measure.

And now it was on him to fix it.

He had no idea how.

Or even where to begin.

So he just sat there and hoped the answer would come to him.

Hoped it wasn’t too late.

* * *

Sabrina was the only one home, so she had no choice but to answer the door. She didn’t have to peak through the peep hole to know who was on the other side. She had been expecting him in some form.

“Nick.”

He looked worse for the wear. The bags under his eyes were heavy. His eyes were bloodshot. His clothes wrinkled, hair a mess, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. He was merely a shadow of the usually suave, put together man who had made her swoon.

“I didn’t know if you’d gotten home,” he stumbled over his words. It had been a few hours now since she left. He had finally managed to shake off his grandmother and had given her just enough time to disappear from view before leaving his apartment and heading straight for the mortuary. “You didn’t text.”

His nerves were evident as he tried to shove his hands even deeper into his pockets.

“I got home,” she said evenly.

“Can we talk?” he begged with his eyes. “Please?”

Sabrina hesitated, but she stepped out onto the porch. Nick took that for the sign it was – by not inviting him inside, she had closed herself off to him, and it was his own fault. Because he had closed himself off to her.

She leaned on the railing and waited for him to speak first.

“I’m sorry,” he offered. “Seeing my grandma threw me. She just showed up…”

Sabrina sighed.

“What’s going on, Nick?” she cut right to the chase, tired of being left out of his life. “I know there’s more to it than you needing to sign some papers.”

“It’s the papers,” he insisted. Sabrina shook her head.

“It’s not, Nick. It’s not just a set of papers that determine whether or not you take control of your parents’ assets. I know next to nothing about you…”

“You know a lot about me,” Nick interjected in an effort to help her see she was closer to him than he had allowed anyone else to be in a very long time. “You know about my parents, my nightmares…”

“Even you have to be able to hear the absurdity of that,” she pointed out. “I know your parents died and that you have bad dreams. That’s pretty much all I know about you, Nick. I know your parents taught history and biology, you grew up in Chicago, and you like sports. You don’t drink but I think there’s more to that than you not liking hangovers. I think there is more, too, to these nightmares of yours. You can’t even use the word ‘girlfriend’ when you talk about me. There has to be a reason for that.”

“I told you, I’ve never been in a relationship…”

“Why not?” she pushed. “Why have you never been in a relationship? I know you sleep around…”

“Slept around,” Nick corrected. “I stopped doing that when I met you.” That had to be a point in his favor.

“Answer the question, Nick,” Sabrina said. “You do that a lot, too – avoid the question by distracting me somehow or changing the subject.”

“I’ve never had a girlfriend because I’ve never met someone that I was willing to change my ways for,” he said. “Then you came along.” He reached out and took her hand. She was distant and it scared him, but she didn’t pull away. “I know I haven’t been ideal lately. But if you can just hang in there a couple of more weeks while I figure out this stuff with my parents, I swear things will get better.”

He would make sure of it.

A long moment passed before Sabrina shook her head.

“I can’t do this, Nick,” she said. “I can’t keep hanging out, waiting for you to decide to let me be a part of your life. You’ve been slowly unraveling for days now and I have no idea why.”

“Just give me a little more time,” he pleaded. “I’ll explain things, I swear…”

Again, Sabrina shook her head. It broke her heart to do it, but she had to stand her ground.

“Nick, I spent nearly a decade in a relationship in which I settled for a guy who wasn’t right for me, not because he wasn’t wonderful, because he was, but because he was just not right for me. I thought you might be right for me. I was even falling in love with you.”

Nick’s stomach tightened.

Love.

He had wondered about that in quiet moments, when Sabrina was asleep on his chest and everything felt okay. He had never been in love, but the way he felt when he had her in his arms was unlike anything he had felt before. Certainly the pain he was feeling at the idea of losing her leant itself to the theory that he was falling in love with her too. It was on his long list of things to think about, he just hadn’t gotten around to it yet, too busy with assets and dead parents.

“Sabrina…”

“No,” she shook her head. “This isn’t what I want, Nick, but I can’t wait around for you to decide to let me into whatever is going on with you. I can’t hang around at an arm’s distance, waiting for you to decide if you’re going to let me be a part of your life. I can’t wait for you to decide you’re comfortable with introducing me as your girlfriend.”

“Please, Sabrina,” Nick tried again. “Just – let me sort some stuff out, okay? Give me some time to figure some things out, and then I’ll be better…”

Sabrina sighed sadly. He didn’t understand. He was steadfast in keeping her at arm’s length, even as she stood before him and told him she didn’t want to break up with him but couldn’t wait around for him to let her be a part of his life. She sensed ending their relationship would wreck him, but she was at a loss. She had tried to be patient. She had tried to push. She had tried to show him he could trust her. He had just as steadfastly refused to put even a toe out of the fortress he had built around himself and it was wasn’t fair to herself to not have her own needs met. As much as she cared about him, it was clear to her that Nick either wasn’t ready to be in a relationship or not in a place to be in one at the moment.

Maybe both.

“Why is your grandmother here?” she asked. Nick frowned at the change in topic.

“I was screening her calls,” he told her. “She took checking in on me a little too far.”

“I screen my aunts all the time. They never show up where I am to check on me.”

“You live in the same town as them,” Nick pointed out. “Hell, you live with them. My grandma took things to the extreme.”

“Why is she here, Nick?” Sabrina tried again. “She didn’t just show up to check on you. If she were worried about your well-being, she could have called the Greendale PD for a well check.”

“She wants me to sign those papers,” Nick tried. “This is her way of forcing my hand.”

“Maybe it’s part of it,” Sabrina said. “But something more than her grandson’s refusal to answer a phone or sign a set of papers caused her to come from Chicago to Greendale unannounced.”

Nick had no answer. Sabrina was too smart for his denials anyway.

“What do you want from me, Sabrina?” he sighed, the fight leaving him.

“The truth. What’s going on with you, Nick? How can I help you?”

It should have been simple. He should have been able to sit her down and tell her everything. He even moved his hand as though he were going to take both of hers and begin sharing his whole sordid story. But something inside of him stopped him. It was like slamming into a brick wall. A wall that had been there for a long time that wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how badly he wanted it to.

“I guess this is it then,” he heard himself saying. Sabrina’s heart broke. She had given him one more chance, but he didn’t take it. She nodded sadly.

“I guess it is.”

Nick looked at her for another long moment, his own heart shattering, before he turned and walked away. He didn’t look back until he was in the car and had no choice but to look up at the mortuary. Sabrina had already gone inside, away from him, away from whatever their brief relationship had been.

He started is car and backed out of the mortuary driveway, likely for the last time. At the end of the drive, he hesitated. His thoughts started to go fuzzy, a dangerous sign.

Right would take him home.

Left would take him to Dorian’s.

He turned left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW. Amalia in Greendale... Things aren't good for Nick right now, for sure. Things aren't great for Sabrina, either. She's made every effort to be there for him, but there comes a point when, as she accurately puts it, you can't help someone that doesn't want your help. 
> 
> At least she and Zelda are on good terms now? 
> 
> Next update... Nick went left. But what does he actually DO?
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on this update! XOXO


	16. Death By A Thousand Cuts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another PSA: Alcoholism and mental health triggers below. Both are things my family has coped with.

_Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts_   
_Flashbacks waking me up_   
_I get drunk, but it's not enough_   
_'Cause the morning comes and you're not my baby_

An odd shrieking drew Sabrina out of her restless sleep. She lifted her head from her pillow and blinked, trying to make sense of it. Next to her, her cat, Salem, let out a low meow to show his disgust at being disturbed by her movement. The noise stopped and she dropped her head back to the pillow, deciding she must have dreamed it.

It started again.

She realized it was her phone.

She fumbled for it on her nightstand and frowned when she saw Dorian Gray’s phone number. She had saved it on a whim a couple of years ago when he called her to come fetch Ambrose after a particularly wild night Ambrose had never told her all the details about. She had never used it.

“Hello?” she croaked.

“Sabrina, love, I’m sure I’ve woken you,” greeted Dorian, “but there’s a highly intoxicated anthropology student here that I believe belongs to you.”

“Nick?” She sat up and turned on her lamp, trying to make sense of what Dorian was saying through her sleep-addled brain. “He doesn’t drink.”

“Oh, but he does,” Dorian purred. “And he’s had quite a lot tonight. I think he may have served himself a time or two. No bartender here would have continued to pour for him in the state he’s in. I could put him in an Uber, but, well, I’ve known Nicky for a long time, and I don’t think he should be alone right now.”

“He’s drunk?” Sabrina asked, just to be certain.

“Very.”

“I’ll be there,” Sabrina sighed. “Give me a few minutes.”

She hung up and got out of bed, confused by what was happening. Nick didn’t drink, yet he was drunk. Dorian seemed to know something she didn’t about Nick. Things didn’t add up, but she couldn’t take the time to make sense of it all now. She found her bag and slipped out of the house quietly so as not to wake her aunts.

She arrived at Dorian’s within fifteen minutes. It was after last call and the bar was largely empty, the bartenders cleaning up or else ringing out final tabs for lingering patrons. Nick was at the bar, his forehead resting on his crossed arms.

“Nick?” She was cautious as she approached him. He turned his head but didn’t lift it from his arms. He was even more disheveled than he had been earlier.

“Sa… Bree…. Na….” he slurred. Sabrina took him in. Whatever he was went well past drunk. Her concern for him skyrocketed.

“What have you done?” she sighed.

“Got… Drunk… Been a…. Long time….” He sat up slowly and reached for a glass of clear liquid. He brought it to his lips, but Sabrina reached for it.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

“That’s water.” Dorian appeared from the back, drying his hands. “I switched his glass on him an hour ago. I don’t think he’s noticed.”

“How long has he been here?”

“A while,” Dorian confirmed. “I came in around ten and he was well on his way.” Dorian shook his head sadly. “I wouldn’t have let him have anything had I been here when he arrived. The others don’t know, though.”

“Don’t know what?” Sabrina wondered. Dorian looked at her with confusion.

“He doesn’t drink.”

“I know that,” she nodded, her confusion about the situation growing. “He told me he got tired of waking up hungover, so he stopped.”

“I suppose that’s a way to put it,” Dorian mused.

“Why do I feel like I’m missing something?” Sabrina asked.

“More of this,” Nick spoke up. He sloppily pushed his empty water glass towards Dorian. “Keep it coming.”

“I’m afraid we’re closed, Nicky,” Dorian drawled. “Your girlfriend is here to take you home.”

“She broke up with me,” Nick slurred, waving a hand in her direction. “’Cause I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not incorrect about the idiot part,” Dorian agreed. “Sabrina, do you think you can manage him? From experience, he’s a pretty docile drunk.”

“I think so,” she nodded. “Come on, Scratch. Let’s go home.” She put her arm around his waist and he came along easily, leaning heavily on her as they navigated through the bar and outside. It was easier than she expected to get him in her car. He fumbled with the seatbelt. “Let me.” She buckled him in, but as she moved away, his hand lifted to her cheek.

“You’re so pretty,” he said through hooded eyes. “So good to me. Don’t deserve it.”

“What’s going on, Scratch?” she wondered, her hand covering his. “What drove you to drink tonight?”

“You,” he answered. His breath was all bourbon. “Grandma. My parents. Michael. Everything.”

Sabrina sighed and moved his hand away. She lowered it to his lap, then let her fingers graze along his jaw.

“Let’s get you home.”

The drive was quick and quiet. Nick lulled his head against the window while she focused on the road, stealing glances at him every so often to make sure he was okay. She pulled into Nick’s assigned parking spot given that his car was still at the bar.

“Where are we?” he asked, lifting his head from the cool glass of the window. Even buckled in, he swayed a bit.

“Your apartment,” she told him. “How about we go upstairs?”

“Okay,” Nick nodded. “Good idea.” He reached for the car handle and missed. Sabrina blew out a breath of mild annoyance and got out of the car. She went around to the passenger side and helped him out. It was slow going up his stairs, but she managed to get him inside and into his bedroom. Neither of them spoke much. He stripped his shirt off, let it fall to the floor, and stumbled to the bed. He fell face first across it.

Sabrina stood by his bed, hands on her hips, and observed him, debating on what to do. She was tired, emotionally and physically, and entirely thrown by what was happening. Still, she couldn’t just leave him there. He had gone off the rails tonight and she needed to make sure he was safe.

“Let’s at least take off your boots.”

He didn’t move. She shook her head and set to work untying them. She managed to pull them off and let each of them fall to the floor with resounding thunks. She resumed her position of hands on hips as she tried to decide what to do next. Part of her wanted to stay. Part of her thought she should go.

“Will you stay?”

Nick’s voice filled the space, even if he didn’t move.

“I don’t know if I should,” Sabrina admitted. Nick rolled over with some effort. He managed to get himself to his elbows. She would be willing to bet he saw two of her in that moment.

“Please.”

The way he said that one simple word tore at her. She sighed and nodded. She didn’t know why she had bothered to debate the idea with herself.

“I’ll stay.”

She left him in the bedroom and went into the bathroom for a few minutes’ reprieve. She stood at the sink and breathed in and out, trying to piece together what had transpired over the last hour. Nick didn’t drink and yet he was full on drunk and Dorian seemed to know more about his past than she did. She knew she wasn’t going to get answers tonight though, no matter how desperately she wanted them. She used the restroom, washed her hands, and rejoined Nick, opting to stay in the leggings and sweatshirt she had put on to go get him. He had moved to one side of the bed to give her room. She turned off the lamp and gingerly laid down, leaving space between them.

“I’m sorry,” Nick said into the darkness.

“Nick,” Sabrina sighed. She just wanted to go to sleep and deal with everything else in the morning light.

“I’m an asshole,” he continued. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re drunk,” Sabrina observed. “Just – go to sleep, okay? We can talk in the morning.”

She thought about how he had fed her toast and given her Tylenol before he allowed her to go to sleep. She considered doing the same, but she had a feeling Nick wouldn’t eat it – or would be passed out before she could finish making it. There were a fair few parallels to now and the night he had been the one to fetch her from Dorian’s. But she felt in her gut things would go very different when he woke up in a few hours.

“I have to face the consequences in the morning.” His words were less slurred now. “I can’t believe I got drunk.”

“Try to sleep, Nick,” Sabrina urged.

“I love you, Sabrina.”

Silence.

“I love you,” he said again. “I can’t say it sober, but I can say it drunk. I’m not as scared of things when I’m drunk. That’s why I drink. Or it was. Is. I don’t know.”

“Why don’t we talk about this in the morning?” Sabrina proposed in an effort to keep him from saying more things he may or may not mean.

“We’ll still be broken up in the morning,” Nick rambled. “Don’t blame you for that. I’d break up with me too. I don’t deserve to be happy.”

Sabrina propped herself up on her elbow to look at Nick.

“Everyone deserves to be happy,” she chanced.

“Not me,” Nick insisted. He looked at her. Even drunk and in the dark, she could see the sadness in his eyes. She could feel it rolling off of him in tsunami-sized waves. “I see you dead in my dreams.”

She frowned.

“What?” she questioned.

“It used to be just my parents. Now it’s you. My therapist says it my subconscious trying to face my fears, but all I know is you’re dead and it’s awful.”

“I’m not dead,” Sabrina told him. “I’m right here.”

“Just until morning,” he muttered. “Then you’ll be gone again. That’s what happens to people I dare to care about. They leave.”

He wasn’t making sense. He had said more to her about what was going on in his mind in the last few minutes than he had in the whole time they had been together combined, but she was sure he wouldn’t remember in the morning. And if he did, she had a feeling he wouldn’t expand on any of it. None of it made any sense.

“Try to get some sleep,” she directed again. “We’ll figure this out in the morning.”

Nick rolled over and rested his head on Sabrina’s chest.

“I know I’m drunk. But I love you, Sabrina. I do.”

“You say that now,” she said. Her hand went to his curls as though on autopilot. “But I don’t think you’ll feel that way in the morning.”

“Yes, I will.” He brought himself closer. “But you’ll still be gone. Everyone leaves me.”

He said nothing further and in minutes, he was asleep.

Sabrina, however, lay awake, trying to piece together what had happened over the last several hours, from Nick’s grandmother’s arrival to Dorian’s phone call.

A soft, barely noticeable snore emitted from Nick.

For the first time, she saw clearly that he was broken, deep down. He tried to cover it up by being well-dressed, charismatic, and intelligent, but something had happened to wreck him. She ran her hand through his hair and second guessed her decision to walk away.

Maybe she would stay a little longer.

Maybe he would wake up and open up to her.

Maybe he really did love her.

Maybe she loved him, too.

* * *

Nick wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting on the side of his bed, but he was sure it had been a while. He had woken up, recognized he was hungover, and then just – sat there, trying and failing to process. He knew someone was in his apartment and had heard the sound of something being dropped and a whispered curse word that told him that person was Sabrina.

Things were hazy at first, but the longer he sat there, the more of the day before and last night came back to him.

He just as soon had never woken up.

“You’re awake.”

He couldn’t help but look her way. Sabrina stood in his doorway, tired and angelic. He averted his eyes, ashamed.

“How are you feeling?” She took a couple of soft steps into the room. “Do you need some Tylenol? Water?”

Nick shook his head. He had a faint headache and a dry mouth, but that was the least of his problems. Sabrina took a few more cautious steps.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“I guess.”

She perched on the edge of the bed next to him.

“Can I do anything?”

Nick shook his head again. She didn’t have a time machine and that’s what he needed. He needed to go back in time – way back in time – and make different choices. A soft hand landed on his back. He cringed. He didn’t deserve her kindness.

“Things got a little tense yesterday,” she tried after a near full minute of silence. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize,” he cut her off. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“You said some things last night,” she tried. She didn’t dare bring up the ‘love’ word, but she prodded to see if he would open up about anything else. “You said you were seeing me dead in your dreams. Do you want to tell me about that?”

“No.”

Sabrina sighed. He was shutting down already.

“I want to help, Nick.” She rubbed his back. “I can’t do that if you won’t tell me what’s going on.”

“You can’t help me.”

“Try me,” she argued. “I tend to go to the mat for the people I care about. That includes you.”

Nick squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to pull her into his arms. He wanted to push her far, far away, where she was safe from him. He clinched his hands into fists to keep himself from doing either.

“Please, Nick,” she nearly begged. “Talk to me.”

“I messed up.”

Sabrina nodded and waited, expecting more. Nothing further came.

“Messed up how?” she prompted after several long beats of silence.

“I messed up,” he repeated.

Sabrina fell quiet, thinking, trying to determine a way to entice the truth out of him. She continued to rub his back, noting it seemed to bring him some comfort. He at least hadn’t pulled away.

There was a light knock on the door.

“Let’s ignore it,” Sabrina determined. Nick was in no state for visitors. He didn’t protest. Whomever was there knocked again. “They’ll go away…”

“Nicholas!”

It was his grandmother.

“She won’t go away,” he said in a dejected tone. Sabrina sighed. He was right. Amalia Scratch would not be deterred. But neither would she.

“I’ll be right back.” She left his side and went to the door. She unlocked it and opened it to Amalia. “Mrs. Scratch,” she greeted. Amalia looked surprised.

“Sabrina. I can’t say I expected to see you here this morning.”

“Nick’s not feeling all that well,” she said, standing in a way that prevented Amalia from seeing past her. “I think he’ll be fine after a few more hours of sleep. Maybe come back later? Or I’ll have him call you.”

Amalia looked suspicious.

“What do you mean, he’s not feeling well?”

“He’s come down with a virus or something,” Sabrina lied. “It doesn’t seem too serious.”

“He’s hungover,” Amalia deduced. She watched surprise flicker over Sabrina’s features. “I know my grandson, Sabrina. He is no more sick than you or I. He got drunk once I left him last night.”

“Yes,” Sabrina admitted. “He’s in a little bit of a mood right now. If you can come back later…”

Amalia shook her head sadly.

“You have no idea, do you?”

Sabrina frowned.

“No idea about what?”

Amalia sighed heavily. She was in her seventies, but in the moment, she felt infinitely older.

“Of course he didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Sabrina demanded. “I’m well aware that there is plenty he’s not telling me…” Amalia looked sad.

“Sabrina, Nicholas is an alcoholic.”

Stunned silence followed.

“What?” Sabrina shook her head. “No. He doesn’t drink.” But she remembered what Dorian said the night before and her certainty that there had been more to his admission that he had stopped drinking because he was tired of hangovers. Still, she hadn’t expected alcoholism.

“He hasn’t in months,” Amalia said. “It seems that came to an end last night. Now, may I come in?” In shock, Sabrina stepped aside for her to enter the apartment. “He’s in his bedroom?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She strode right in and found Nick where Sabrina had left him. She sighed heavily as she took him in. “Nicholas.”

“I know,” he said quietly, his eyes on the floor. “I know.”

“What are we going to do?” she asked him. Nick just shrugged. “Let’s call your therapist.”

“Therapist?” Sabrina asked from behind Amalia. It was all she could do not to demand someone give her answers right then.

Nick glanced at her and felt sick. All he had to do was tell her the truth. If he had told her everything from the beginning, she wouldn’t be standing there, looking like a deer in the headlights as she learned the truth about him.

“Nicholas?” Amalia prompted.

Without a word, Nick stood. He brushed past his grandmother and just as Sabrina thought he might be coming for her, he passed her, too. She watched him disappear into the bathroom and close the door behind him with a soft ‘click.’ She looked back to Amalia, her eyes full of questions and worry.

“How much do you know about Nicholas?” Amalia asked.

“Not much,” Sabrina admitted. “He doesn’t talk about himself much.”

Amalia closed her eyes as though she were in pain.

“I had a feeling,” she sighed. “I really thought he might be doing better, but this…” She just shook her head with a grim set to her jaw. Sabrina looked at her for a moment, then exited the room, determined to get some answers. She raised her hand and tapped on the bathroom door.

“Nick?”

Silence.

She tapped again.

Nothing.

She tried the knob. It was unlocked. She pushed the door open a few inches.

“Nick?”

He didn’t reply.

She chanced opening it a little wider. He was there, sitting on the edge of the tub, still in his jeans from the night before. She closed the door behind them. The bathroom was small, too small for the both of them, really, but she closed the lid of the toilet and sat down anyway.

“Your grandmother told me you’re an alcoholic.”

He said nothing in response to her blunt statement. She reached out and placed a hand on his knee.

“It’s okay, Nick…”

“It’s not okay.” He sat up, causing her hand to fall away from his knee. “I was sober. Now I’m not.” He reached into his pocket and produced several colored coins. His sobriety coins. “These are worthless now.” He threw them towards the trashcan crammed between the toilet and the sink, his anger and frustration with himself bubbling over. “There’s no use in you sticking around. I’m an alcoholic. I’m incapable of a relationship. I can’t even stay sober.”

“A lot has happened in the last twenty-four hours,” Sabrina said calmly. She had to be calm, because Nick certainly wasn’t. “We can work through this though, Nick. You are not alone…”

“Alone is the best place for me,” he cut her off. He was shutting down completely. “I hurt the people who get too close to me.”

“You haven’t hurt me…”

Nick scoffed.

“I can’t even introduce you as my girlfriend. Don’t be the sacrificial lamb now because you know I’m an alcoholic. You were right in saying you couldn’t wait around for me. Leave, Sabrina. You’re wasting your time here.”

“Your grandmother mentioned a therapist,” Sabrina tried, holding her ground. “Let’s call…”

“Dammit, Sabrina!” Nick’s voice rose. The bathroom acoustics made it seem even louder. “I said to leave. You’re not helping. You don’t need to be here.”

Sabrina fought back the urge argue, to inform him she would be staying right there. She leaned on her instincts that told her he would only resist further if she pushed. She got to her feet and looked down at him. He seemed to cower under her steady gaze.

“I’ll leave,” she told him. “But I want to be very clear, Nicholas, that I’m leaving this apartment. I am not leaving you. I will give you some time, but I’m here.”

He said nothing. She blew out a breath. She had to say one more thing before she left.

“You said you loved me last night.” He just looked at her. “I know you were drunk, and that you might not remember, never mind that you might not have meant it. But I said I was falling in love with you when you were at the mortuary yesterday, remember?” He didn’t respond. She kept going. “I did mean that. This changes nothing. I’m here, Nick. You are only alone if you want to be.”

He looked her right in the eye.

“I don’t love you.” He saw how his words hurt her. He felt how much he didn’t mean them in his very bones, even if he had never – at least sober – said those words to her. But it was better this way. It was better if she left now. It was better if he were the sacrificial lamb. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he would hurt her more if she stayed. “We had a good time, but it was only ever sex, Sabrina. Good sex, but just sex nonetheless.”

“You don’t mean that,” she challenged. She knew in her bones he didn’t.

“I do,” Nick nodded, eyes still on hers. It was taking all he had not to show his true feelings. “It’s time for you to go. Don’t come back. I don’t want you here.”

He watched her eyes fill with tears, memorized the way her lip trembled as she tried to hold back her emotions. He was sure he would see her like this in his nightmares now, not only dead, but heartbroken, too. She managed one firm nod of her head before she was gone.

For the first time since his parents’ deaths, Nick allowed himself to cry.

* * *

He was in a daze.

It had taken him over an hour to pull himself out of the bathroom and face his grandmother who had periodically knocked on the door in an effort to coax him out. She hadn’t asked any questions but had offered him his phone without a word. He took it and called the emergency line his therapist had given him. Within the hour, Elsbeth was at his place. He couldn’t say he felt better, exactly, but he no longer felt like the world was spinning faster than he could process everything.

Not that he could process anything.

The world had stopped spinning, but now it was simply standing still. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

Amalia didn’t knock, but let herself in. Her heart broke a bit as she took in her grandson, curled up on the couch in sweats and looking like his world had completely crashed around him. He pushed himself into a seated position.

“Your therapist left?” she asked.

“A bit ago, yeah,” Nick nodded. He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face. “House calls are a new low for me.”

“Was she helpful?”

“I guess,” Nick shrugged. He was still trying to make up his mind. She had been more concerned with making sure he wasn’t planning any sort of self-harm initially and then there was a lot about why he had turned to alcohol. “She encouraged me to find a meeting.”

“Are you going to?” Amalia wondered.

“Probably.”

He needed to. He had stopped going to AA meetings when he moved to Greendale, thinking he no longer needed them, that he could deal with his alcoholism through therapy. But now that he had relapsed, an AA meeting or two sounded like a good idea.

“How about something to eat?” Amalia proposed. Nick shook his head.

“I’m not hungry.”

“When was the last time you ate?” Amalia pushed.

Nick thought for a moment.

“Breakfast yesterday,” he recalled. It was nearly dinnertime now. “I think I had a granola bar at some point too.” He had planned to take Sabrina to a movie, share a bucket of popcorn, and then have a late dinner at Cee’s. Things had gone very, very wrong.

“You need to eat,” she said. “I’m sure you don’t have the ingredients here, but why I don’t I go to the store in a few minutes, get ingredients to make you that chicken noodle soup you love?”

“You don’t have to do that, Grandma,” Nick shook his head. Of course she would try to fix things with comfort food. “It’s a lot of trouble, and I’m really not hungry.”

“I’m making the soup,” she stated, and Nick knew there would be no arguing. She didn’t leave for the store, however. Instead, she perched on the armchair near him. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“I just spent the better part of three hours talking,” Nick countered, reminding her she had left to give him and Elsbeth privacy for their marathon therapy session. “I’m talked out.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted. “At least for what’s left of today, I’m going to sit here and wallow.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” Amalia sighed. She had to ask though. She wanted to know about the petite blonde that seemed to care so much about her grandson. “Do you want to tell me about the girl?”

“Sabrina,” Nick sighed. He honestly wasn’t sure what his most pressing issue was. His lost sobriety, the legal papers he needed to sign, or whatever ruins were left of his relationship. He did know images of sad brown eyes and trembling red lips seemed to haunt him. “I thoroughly wrecked that.”

“She had no idea about the alcoholism,” Amalia observed.

Because I didn’t tell her,” Nick admitted. “She knows Mom and Dad died and that I’ve got some legal stuff pending to take control of their assets. She also knows I have nightmares. She doesn’t know what they entail, but I told her about them.”

Laying it out like that, he could see how he had closed himself off to her. He knew even the most random facts about her, right down to what she liked on her cheeseburger. She didn’t even know his middle name, simply because he had never shared it.

“She’s your girlfriend?”

“Is… Was…” Nick shook his head. “I don’t know.” He had no idea where they stood. “I said some pretty awful things to her in the bathroom this morning.” He sighed and sat back on the couch, thinking of how she had insisted that she was leaving the apartment, but not him. Did that mean they were still together? He just didn’t know. “It’s been hard for me to call her my girlfriend. We’ve had a couple of arguments about it.” He ran a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Grandma. She’s perfect, but I can’t seem to be honest with her.”

“What’s she like?” Amalia prompted. She smiled a bit. “A bit protective, perhaps? She wasn’t going to let me in this morning.”

“She can be,” Nick nodded. “She’s kind, compassionate. She will do anything for the people she cares about. She’s smart, quick-witted. She can be persistent when she wants to be, isn’t afraid to stand her ground.” The faintest smile graced his lips as he thought of her. “She’s an incredible dancer. She was in law school when I met her, but I could tell pretty quickly that her heart wasn’t in it. She dropped out a few weeks ago and has been teaching dance. She’s a lot happier.”

“How did you meet her?” Amalia continued, encouraged by the way Nick was talking about Sabrina.

“She came into the bar one night, demanding a drink like she owned the place. I ran into her at the farmer’s market the next day and,” Nick shrugged, “it just kind of – happened.”

It truly had. He had made her a gin and tonic and the next thing he knew, she was an integral part of his life, the very best part of his day, whether he woke up with her or was only connected to her via their usual steady stream of text messages. Text messages that had been non-existent today.

“Perhaps you should talk to her,” Amalia encouraged.

“And say what?” Nick wondered. “Sorry for what I said once I was sober?” That was the irony of the situation he found himself in. He had been more truthful drunk than sober. It wasn’t his drunk behavior he needed to apologize for. “I don’t think that will fly.”

“You could try telling her the truth,” Amalia suggested.

“I’ll think about it,” he said with a heavy sigh. He had accepted that he wasn’t going to fix anything tonight. He didn’t have the mental capacity left to deal with anything more. “I meant what I said about sitting on this couch and wallowing tonight.”

Amalia sighed, sensing she wasn’t going to get much more out of her grandson right then.

“I’m going to go to the store to get the soup ingredients,” she determined. Nick opened his mouth to object, but she held up a hand as she stood. “You’re eating something, Nicholas. End of discussion.”

“You’ll need to get a soup pot,” Nick stated as he laid back down. “I don’t have one.”

“Of course you don’t.” There was a note of teasing in her tone now. She knew he had no interest in the kitchen. “I saw a grocery store a few blocks down I believe?”

“That’s the only one in Greendale,” Nick confirmed.

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

She left, leaving him alone once more. He blew out a long breath and ran his hand along his face. After a moment of hesitation, he reached for his phone. He found Sabrina’s contact and tapped. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, his eyes drifting over their last exchange.

_Outside the studio when you’re ready._

_Be there in a few. Waiting for a couple of moms to pick up their kids._

She had breezed out of the studio and into his car a few minutes later, greeted him with a kiss, and asked about his day. He had kissed her again at a stoplight and by the time they reached his apartment, he had thought things were going to go very differently.

He thought of what to say as he stared at the phone. He wondered what combination of words would be the right ones to begin to make things right with her.

Nothing came to him.

He exhaled and put the phone down.

Wallow tonight, he decided. Or at least as much as his grandmother would allow him to.

He would try again tomorrow.

It was the only thing he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Nick got drunk. His personal worth is very connected to his sobriety right now and he's pretty devastated. He's got this girl, too, that really cares about him, but relationships are hard enough. Add in alcoholism and anxiety, and things are pretty tough for our guy right now. 
> 
> Next update... Sabrina finally - finally - gets some insight into Nick. And we get some answers, too. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading - please let me know what you thought of this one!


	17. Afterglow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More trigger warnings this post: mental health, alcoholism, addiction, and death. 
> 
> It's a loaded one. 
> 
> Grandma Scratch is coming in hot. 
> 
> Also, the lyrics of this song. <3

_It's all me in my head_  
_I'm the one who burned us down_  
_But it's not what I meant_  
_Sorry that I hurt you_  
_I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you_  
_I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you_

Sabrina felt like she was in a fog as she exited the dance studio after a morning of preschool classes. She had felt like that for the last two days since leaving Nick’s apartment, waiting to hear from him, wondering how he was doing, if he was okay. Wondering what in the hell had even happened. She had started a thousand texts, had nearly called him at least a hundred times, but she simply didn’t know what to say.

She took the fact that he hadn’t reached out as sign that he didn’t want to see or hear from her. Part of her didn’t believe he meant it when he said he didn’t love her. His words didn’t line up with his actions, with the way he looked at her like she hung the moon when he thought she wasn’t looking or how he treated her. But the part of her that was wounded by his words did believe him. That part of her believed he wanted her to keep her distance. As much as she wanted to be there for him, if he didn’t want her to be, that was that. She couldn’t force herself on him, not when he was barely holding on.

“Sabrina?”

She skidded to a stop as her name broke through her trance.

Standing outside the dance studio was Amalia Scratch. She vaguely remembered what Nick said about paying more attention to her surroundings when he had surprised her not all that long ago and chastised herself for not being aware of what she was walking into. She wouldn’t have avoided the woman by any means, but she would have been more prepared to face her had she seen her standing there when she exited the studio.

“Mrs. Scratch, hi.”

She couldn’t help but glance around the lot. She hadn’t expected to see Nick, but she was still disappointed when he wasn’t there.

“Please, Sabrina, call me Amalia.” She gave her a gentle, friendly smile. “I’m sorry to surprise you like this – I promise, I’m not usually one to show up unannounced despite what it may seem – but I ventured out to the mortuary and your aunt Hilda told me I would find you here. She’s lovely, by the way. She sent me off with a half dozen muffins when I she learned I’m Nicholas’ grandmother. I tried to politely turn her down, but she insisted.

“That sounds like Hilda,” Sabrina said wryly. “Is there something I can help you with Mrs… Amalia?”

“I was hoping I could buy you a cup of coffee,” she answered. “I’d like to speak with you, if you’re willing.”

“Okay,” Sabrina agreed with some suspicion. “There’s a café just up the street.”

“Sounds wonderful,” she nodded her agreement and fell into step next to Sabrina. “So you teach dance?”

“I do,” Sabrina nodded. “I’ve danced my whole life, but I just started teaching.”

“Nicholas mentioned you recently left law school?”

“I did,” Sabrina confirmed with a pang of recognition. Nick hadn’t told his grandmother about her, which meant he had at least been talking about her since she left his apartment. “Nick was actually a big part of helping me see that I wasn’t meant to be a lawyer.”

“Was he?” Amalia asked.

“He could tell pretty early on that my heart wasn’t in law school,” Sabrina shared. “He caught me dancing in the studio on campus not long after I met him and he was pretty quick to see where my heart really was.” She smiled a bit. “He was actually the first person I told when I withdrew.”

“He means a lot to you,” Amalia observed.

“He does,” Sabrina admitted. “I’ve been worried about him…”

“Has he been acting – off – lately?” Amalia questioned. “Not quite himself?”

“Well, yes,” Sabrina nodded. “But he was always ready with an excuse. His schedule was so busy with work and school. He’s taking doctorial-level classes, doing research, TA’ing an undergrad class, working at Dorian’s… I took it at face value when he said he was tired and stressed.”

“I suppose there was some truth to his stress level being high,” Amalia said. They reached the coffee shop and Sabrina opened the door for them. “He’s been juggling a lot for a long time.”

Sabrina wanted to ask what she meant, but she put a pin in her questioning for the moment. They ordered and made idle small talk while they waited. Neither of them spoke of Nick again until they sat down in a quiet corner with their lattes.

“How is Nick?” she asked carefully. “I’ve wanted to reach out, but I wasn’t sure I should.”

“He’s not better, exactly, but he’s made some progress,” Amalia revealed. “Things weren’t great after you left. It took me a long while to get him out of that bathroom and cleaned up a bit. It took even longer to get him to eat something. He’s been in close contact with his therapist. She seems to be helping him.”

“That’s good,” Sabrina said. It wrenched her gut to know he was hurting and that she couldn’t be there to help him.

“He’s told me a lot about you over the last couple of days,” Amalia continued. “He used words like ‘beautiful’ and ‘smart,’ ‘kind’ and ‘compassionate.’ He really cares about you, Sabrina, despite whatever transpired between the two of you.”

“I care about him too,” Sabrina said. “I want to be there for him, but I don’t think he wants that.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t want you to be there,” Amalia explained. She could sense Sabrina’s concern for her grandson and it only made her warm up even more to the girl that seemed to have managed to steal her grandson’s heart. “It’s that he doesn’t know how to accept your help.” She took another deep breath. “Sabrina, I’m under the impression that Nicholas has told you very little about himself.”

“He hasn’t shared much,” Sabrina confirmed. “Not for my lack of trying to get it out of him.”

“He did call you ‘persistent’ as well,” Amalia mused. Sabrina had to smile a bit at that description. “I do wish he would tell you this himself, and I’m sure I’ll have plenty of blanks he will need to fill in, but I think you need to know what Nick has been through.”

“I want to know,” Sabrina nodded. “But if there is any chance he doesn’t want me to, I don’t want to disrespect his wishes...”

She desperately wanted Amalia to tell her everything she could about Nick, but she also wanted to respect Nick’s privacy. He hadn’t shared his past with her for a reason.

“He wants you to know,” Amalia assured her. “He told me as much last night and he knows that I was planning to speak with you. I think his reasoning for keeping things to himself will make more sense when I share a bit more with you.”

Sabrina nodded, indicating that she should continue. Her stomach flipped a bit as she waited to learn whatever it was Nick had kept hidden.

“Nicholas has always been an exceptional student,” she began. “He’s whip smart, but he got it honest. Both my son and his wife were exceptionally intelligent as well. He was a good kid, didn’t get into much trouble. He played sports – baseball – mostly because he wanted to look good on his college applications. He has wanted to be an anthropologist since he was a tiny thing. He could barely say ‘anthropologist,’ but he met one at a museum his parents took him to and that was that.”

Sabrina smiled a bit at the idea of a young Nick being swept away by a working anthropologist. She imagined it had been a bit like when she had seen a ballerina dance for the first time.

“He started to drink in college. Socially, of course. It’s to be expected in college, I suppose. I’m sure he had his fair share of wild nights, but it was never a problem, just the typical fraternity boy behavior stereotyped in the movies. The year he took off between undergrad and his masters was the turning point. He went to bartending school and started experimenting a bit too often with alcohol. Even then, things were still fairly under control until he went off to Oxford for his master’s. He bartended near campus, used his tips to travel around Europe. He fell in with a bad crowd and began to drink heavily. The drinking led him to drugs and to this day, no one knows how he managed to graduate, with honors at that.

“Things got worse once he was back in the States. His parents wanted him to either find a job or apply for the Ph.D. he had always talked about, but he kept partying, drinking, doing drugs. There were a couple of close calls. After the second overdose…”

Sabrina gasped.

“Overdose?” she interrupted. “Nick?”

Amalia looked sad.

“He overdosed twice,” she confirmed. Sabrina’s face fell in horror. “After the second one, his father’s best friend, Michael…”

“Nick’s godfather,” Sabrina supplied, her mind reeling as she tried to comprehend the fact that Nick had overdosed not once but twice, that he was not only an alcoholic, but an addict, too. “The family lawyer.”

“That’s him,” Amalia nodded. “He’s more like a second son to me by now. Nicholas’ father went to him for help and he was able to essentially render Nicholas a danger to himself. His parents were appointed his guardians and Nicholas lost his decision-making abilities.”

Sabrina felt sick at the thought of Nick being so low a court would rule him as a risk to himself. In her mind, he was so confident, so strong and steady. She couldn’t reconcile that there had been another side of him. It just didn’t seem like it could be true. Amalia continued her story.

“Nicholas was put into a long-term rehab facility. He went somewhat peacefully. The second OD scared him enough to help him see he needed help. He still protested, of course, but it didn’t take long for him to start to make real progress. He got the help he needed, and his parents were able to heal their relationship with him as well. It had become quite strained during the worst of his behavior.”

Sabrina waited. She was certain the tragic turn was just around the corner.

“They went to visit him for a weekend. He was a couple of hours outside of Chicago and they were there to discuss Nicholas leaving rehab soon. His doctors and therapists thought he was ready. He was certainly ready. He had been there for nearly three months.” She smiled a bit. “He did most of his Ph.D. applications while in rehab. Once he got his footing under him once more, he could talk of nothing other than how he wanted to get out of there and get his life back on track. His parents were so proud of him and how far he had come.

“It was a good weekend,” she continued in a nostalgic sort of way. “His parents were able to take Nicholas offsite on a day pass. They had a really good day. They went to lunch, did some shopping and sightseeing. They set off back to Chicago with plans to pick Nicholas up in a couple of weeks and bring him home.”

Amalia paused. She took a sip of her cooling latte to steel herself for the part of the story she didn’t think she would ever be able to tell without the heavy sadness than enveloped her.

“Unfortunately, his parents were in an accident on the way home.” Sabrina tightened her grip around the handle of her own mug. This was where things turned even more tragic. “In what may well be one of the cruelest twists of irony, his parents were hit by a drunk driver.”

Sabrina’s lips formed a soft ‘oh.’ Her heart ached for Nick. The people he loved the most, the people who had fought for him, were killed by someone doing the very thing he was recovering from. It was cruel in the cruelest of ways.

“His mother succumbed to her injuries a couple of days later,” Amalia shared. “Nicholas was with her. I went to get him from rehab myself. I called ahead and told his treatment team, but asked to be the one to tell him. It felt wrong, for him to get such news from not strangers, exactly, not after three months of rehab with them, but from someone who wasn’t family. I wanted to be the one to tell him. I could practically see the wrecking ball crashing into the fragile foundation he had managed to rebuild.”

Amalia had to stop for a moment. She picked up her napkin and dabbed at her eyes as she remembered the scene that had unfolded in his psychiatrist’s office. She had fumbled for her words and Nick, holding her hand, had squeezed it harder and harder, waiting for her to say the words he knew were coming but wouldn’t believe until she finally managed to put voice to them. He had broken down then, and his psychiatrist had stepped in to help them navigate the aftermath. Nick had surprised them all though and once the initial shock wore off, he had stood as strong as one could when they learned both of their parents were barely hanging on to life.

“If you need to stop…” Sabrina offered. Amalia shook her head.

“I’m too far in the story to stop now,” she said with a faint sad smile. “Like I was saying, his mother died a couple of days after the accident. His father, however, was left in a vegetative state. We put him in a rehabilitation center with the understanding that he would never be more than a body in a bed again. Nicholas surprised me with how well he handled things. He struggled, but he didn’t go back to drinking or drugs. He spent a lot of time in therapy and with his father. He deferred his doctorate here in Greendale for a year to cope with his mother’s passing and be with his father.

Tears burned at Sabrina’s eyes as she learned Nick’s tragic past. She had been under the impression that Nick’s parents died at the same time. She had no idea his father had been around for months after his mother’s death as a mere shell of himself. She had a nagging suspicion about the alcohol but would have never suspected drugs. It was no wonder he hadn’t wanted to share his past with her – she wouldn’t want to re-tell it either.

“Nine months ago now, my son – David, I don’t think I’ve said his name yet, have I? – contracted an infection,” Amalia continued. “It’s not uncommon in those facilities, no matter how clean they are or how high the standard of care is. His body went septic and Nicholas was left to make the difficult decision to unplug his father’s life support system.”

“Oh my God,” Sabrina breathed. She imagined a barely holding on Nick having to make a decision like that. It was all she could do not to throw caution to the wind and run to him right then and there.

“I gave Nicholas my blessing to do what he thought was right,” Amalia told her. “And he did choose the right thing. My son absolutely would not want to continue to live as no more than a body kept alive by machines. He was larger than life, my boy.” She smiled sadly. “I see so much of him in Nicholas. That boy looks like his mother, but he is his father’s son. David died peacefully with both Nicholas and I by his side.”

“I am so sorry,” Sabrina shook her head. “I knew Nick lost his parents, but I didn’t know…”

“The fact that you knew his parents died is more than most people know about Nicholas,” Amalia told her. Sabrina remembered how Nick insisted she knew more about him than most. It seemed that was very true. “He blames himself for their deaths. He believes if he would have been a better son, a better person, he wouldn’t have ended up in rehab. If he weren’t in rehab, they wouldn’t have been to see him, which would have meant they weren’t on the same road as that drunk driver, on and on. He thinks, too, that it’s some kind of karma for his behavior.”

“But that’s not…” Sabrina wanted to argue, but she couldn’t. Instead, she exhaled and decided to share a bit of her own story. She understood Nick better than he thought she did. “My parents died in a plane crash when I was five,” she revealed. “I was supposed to go with them, but at the last minute, they decided to leave me with my aunts. I wonder all the time why fate played out the way it did. It’s not the same scenario at all, but I do have some idea of what it’s like to question things, to feel guilty that you lived and someone else, someone you love, didn’t.”

“You were raised by your aunts,” Amalia nodded. “Nicholas told me as much, although he didn’t mention your parents. You understand a bit, then, at least on some level.” She sighed heavily. It wasn’t fair that both her grandson and the sweet girl sitting across from her had lost both of their parents. “Nicholas had another relapse when his father died. It was short-lived, but he just couldn’t handle what was happening. He had been through so much by that point that I suppose it was a wonder he didn’t relapsed sooner. He was going to AA meetings within the month and truly doing well. I thought he would be okay to move here, to go to school and start his life over.”

Sabrina shifted uncomfortably.

“Maybe it’s my fault.” As Amalia revealed more and more about Nick, she couldn’t help but put some blame on herself. “I can be pushy. I know that about myself. I try not to be, but I pushed him to talk to me, especially these last couple of weeks…”

Amalia covered Sabrina’s hand with her own.

“You did not drive Nicholas back to a bottle of alcohol,” she told her firmly. “His coping skills crashed, and he did the only thing he knew how to do. Except he also knows it makes things worse, which is what he’s experiencing now.” She gave Sabrina’s hand an affectionate squeeze, then sat back in her chair. She took a sip of her now cold latte before she spoke again.

“Nick’s parents were still his guardians when they passed,” she shared. “But they also left everything to Nicholas. The legalities of it are complicated, but Nicholas has essentially had to prove he’s capable of fending for himself, of staying clean and sober. He’s done that in the court’s eyes. Now, he needs to sign papers to access his parents’ assets, but he’s been hesitant. I think he feels guilty, that he would benefit from their death. It’s what they wanted – they loved that boy so much, Sabrina – but he’s having a hard time accepting that.”

Sabrina was quiet as she tried to process everything she had learned. A lot about Nick made sense now. She wished he would have confided in her himself, but she at least knew now.

“What happens now?” she eventually asked.

“He’s agreed to go back to Chicago with me.” Sabrina couldn’t hide her disappointment. She had already started to hope that now that she knew the truth, they could work things out. “He was planning to come home for winter break anyway. He was able to convince his department to let him submit his last assignments of the semester remotely as there are only a few weeks left of classes. He plans to come back for the spring semester, but I think, and he agrees, that he needs to be at home for a bit.”

“When are you leaving?” Sabrina wondered.

“Tomorrow afternoon.” She could see the conflict in Sabrina’s eyes. “I’ve encouraged him to see you before he leaves. I’m not sure if he will, but I would advise you to allow him to make that call. He’s trying to work through a lot right now and his mental state is fragile at best. I know you mean well, but he needs to be the one to decide if he wants to see you.”

“I’ll let him decide,” Sabrina promised. It would take all she had not to go to him, but she would do it. He had pushed her away. He needed to pull her back in – if he wanted to. With everything he had been through, it had to be his decision. “Thank you, Amalia, for telling me all of this.”

“I wouldn’t have shared this if I didn’t believe Nicholas loves you,” she said. “Nor would I have shared if I didn’t believe you feel the same way.” She reached out and squeezed Sabrina’s hand again. “I’m pulling for the pair of you. As his grandmother, I want nothing more than to see him happy. I think he could be very happy with you.”

Her vote of confidence meant everything to Sabrina, but she still felt powerless. She wanted so much to help Nick, to be with him, support him. But she knew, intuitively, that her place right now was on the sidelines.

Even if that was the last place she wanted to be.

* * *

Nick’s insides rolled as he waited for Sabrina to emerge from the dance studio. He didn’t know why he was there or what he was going to say to her. He just knew he needed to see her one more time before he left.

Especially now that she knew the truth.

He had agreed to allow his grandmother to share it, but he felt guilty now. It shouldn’t have been his grandmother that told Sabrina he was an addict, an alcoholic, and largely responsible for his parents’ deaths. It should have been him. He should have told her weeks ago.

But he hadn’t, and there was nothing he could do to change things.

The door opened again and finally, it was her, not a small child with their parent. He was struck by how beautiful she was, once again believing her to be the sunlight at the end of a rainstorm. She looked tired, maybe even sad, but also like she was trying to hide it. He was no fool. She was putting on a front for her students, but on the inside, she was struggling. Much like he was on the outside.

“Bye, Miss Sabrina!” called a small voice. He watched her as she looked across the parking lot to see one of her young ballerinas waving enthusiastically from her mother’s SUV.

“Bye, Lucy!” she called back with a wave. “Great job today!” Lucy’s mother flashed Sabrina a smile and a wave as well before she pulled away. She turned her attention to her bag and found her keys. When she looked up again, her eyes fell on him. She paused. “Nick.”

He braced himself. He could do this.

“Hi,” he managed in a breathy tone that betrayed how nervous he really was.

“What are you doing here?” she asked cautiously. Nick swallowed down his nerves, except it was next to impossible to rid himself of them.

“I…” He paused and reset himself. “I wanted to see you. Before our flight.” Sabrina only nodded. A silence followed. She used the time to observe him. He looked more put together than he had the last time she saw him, but he was still borderline disheveled, his curls wild, his clothes more casual than what he would normally be seen wearing in public. “How are you?” he asked carefully.

Sabrina shrugged.

“I’m okay.”

That was all she was – okay.

“That kid that just left looks to be a fan of yours.”

It was safe to talk about dance. He needed safe while he searched for what to say to her.

“That’s Lucy,” she told him. “She’s one of my favorites. She reminds me of myself at that age.”

“So, classes were good this morning then?”

“Classes were fine.”

“Good,” Nick nodded. “Good.”

Sabrina sighed. Small talk. He was making awkward small talk with her after everything that had transpired.

“What do you want, Nick?” She sounded as tired as he felt. “You didn’t show up here to ask about my classes.”

“I told you – I wanted to see you.” She just looked at him, waiting for more. It was his turn to sigh. “I don’t know what to say, Sabrina,” he admitted. “I just – I wanted to see you.”

Sabrina could tell he meant it. He wanted to see her. What she didn’t understand was why. She wondered if he knew why himself. He scuffed at the pavement. He was visibly uncomfortable.

“So you know everything now.”

“I doubt I know everything,” Sabrina corrected. “But your grandmother shared the highlights.” Nick said nothing. Sabrina felt frustration bubbling, even as she tried to be patient with him, to give him some grace to work through things. If he would just talk to her, she thought they might be able to work through things. But he was as closed off as ever. “You could have talked to me, Nick,” she said gently. “You can talk to me.”

“It’s hard for me, Sabrina.”

“I know,” she nodded patiently. “But it’s me, Nick. I want…”

“Sabrina, please don’t,” Nick cut her off. He ran a heavy hand down his face, conflict raging. He wanted to run away just as much as he wanted to wrap her in his arms and feel the way she fit into them so perfectly. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Why?” Sabrina frowned.

“I just…” Nick shook his head. He was in no place to face her right then. He needed to get himself in order before he could focus on their relationship. “I should go. We need to leave for the airport soon anyway.”

Sabrina felt a sense of helplessness. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, what Nick needed her to do. The scene in the bathroom had been hard. But emotions had been heightened and Nick had been wrestling with his relapse on top of everything else. It hadn’t felt like a true goodbye. This felt different. This felt like the beginning of a real ending to whatever they were.

“Why bother coming?” she asked. Her words were pointed, but her tone was soft. “If you’re not going to talk to me…”

“I wanted to see you,” Nick said again.

“Why?” she pushed. She was tired of Nick’s evasiveness. She knew his past now. Things made more sense. But he still wouldn’t talk to her. Despite knowing he needed to decide what happened between them as he navigated everything he was working through, she couldn’t help herself but to push, just a little. “Why do you want to see me, Nick?”

Nick grew frustrated, whether with her or himself, he wasn’t sure.

“I shouldn’t have come,” he opted for the easy way out. “I’m sorry. For showing up and for – everything else.”

“If you want to go somewhere to talk, we can,” Sabrina proposed, still trying to break through to him. “I know you have a flight to catch, but…”

“No,” Nick shook his head. “I’m going to go. I just…” he sighed as he continued to wrestle with his internal struggle of flight or fight. “I really am sorry, Sabrina. I can’t be the guy you want me to be. The guy you deserve.”

Sabrina knew it would do her no good to argue with him, to try and help him see that she was there for him, that she wanted to support him, that he was exactly the guy she wanted, past and all. He didn’t want her to be a part of his life right now. She had to accept it. She nodded in defeat.

“I hope you find the peace you’re looking for,” she offered. She blinked her eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. She had found it easy to let go of Harvey in the end. It had hurt, but only because she had hurt him. Letting go of Nick and whatever it was between them was excruciating, even if it had only been a few months and not years like with Harvey. She nodded once, as though telling herself this was it. “Have a safe trip.”

She made herself walk away, past him and to her car. She willed the tears that wanted to fall to stay put until she was in the safety of her car.

“Sabrina?”

His rough voice made her stop. She closed her eyes for a moment before she turned back to him. His eyes reflected the same pain she felt.

“I really am sorry.”

“For what?” she questioned.

Nick could only shrug. She nodded and turned away. She gave up on keeping her tears at bay. They rolled freely down her cheeks as she practically threw herself into the safety of her car. Try as she may, it was impossible not to see Nick in her review mirror as she pulled away, slumped against his car, his chin on his chest, his body language defeated.

She wanted to help him. She wanted to hold his hand and love him through whatever he was facing right now.

But she couldn’t.

He didn’t want her to.

And it broke her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's what Nick's been through. It's a lot. He's pretty messed up about it, as he should be. He's heading to Chicago now. Sometimes... You need to go back to where it all began. 
> 
> The idea of Nick being an alcoholic/addict and his parents dying at the hands of a drunk driver is the concept that inspired this whole story. Everything else bloomed from there. 
> 
> But I do think there are a few gaps left for Nick to fill in... 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this heavy update! <3


	18. Clean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! We're back on schedule after a MUCH needed vacation. I really thought I'd be able to update on Friday as planned, but alas, best friends I haven't seen in over a year, cheeseboards, wine, and milkshakes on the beach won out.
> 
> Let's have a Nick-focused update, shall we?

_Ten months sober, I must admit_   
_Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it_

Nick stood on the sidewalk of the home he grew up in. The brownstone in Hyde Park looked both intimately familiar and like a total stranger. It was quintessential Chicago and even now, it seemed to beat right along with the heart of the city. Unlike the brownstones that flanked it, there was no fall wreath on the door or warmth shining through the windows. There was nothing to signal that Thanksgiving was just a couple of days away. There wouldn’t be strings of Christmas lights strung outside in the coming days, nor would there be the twinkle of a Christmas tree in the large front window. It would continue to sit there, empty and cold.

He shivered as he stood there looking up at the three-story home. He was bundled up against the cold late November air. The chill that ran through him had nothing to do with the temperatures and everything to do with the idea of facing his past. He breathed in, allowing the cold to burn his lungs, and exhaled with strong puff that formed in the air in front of him.

It had been two days since he landed in Chicago. He had spent most of the first twenty-four hours tucked away in the bedroom he always stayed in at his grandmother’s trying to sort through his thoughts. Sabrina had occupied a lot of them, but so had the decision he needed to make within the week. He had waffled between calling her just to hear her voice and trying to figure out what he could do to put one foot forward. He was smart enough – and had spent enough time in therapy – to know he needed to actually _do_ something. He couldn’t keep wallowing in the ruins of his life.

Technically, he told himself as he stood there ignoring the few passerby on the quiet street, he could wallow. He could allow himself to stay right where he was, single, sad, and watching life pass him by. But he had gotten a taste of what life could be like in Greendale and he wanted it back. He wanted to be half of a couple, to wake up and feel like he had a purpose, like his studies meant something, like he really was going to have the future he had long ago dreamed of. He couldn’t keep wallowing.

In the end, he had treated his current predicament like it was a research project, figuring out what he needed to do first in order to move on to the next thing and then the thing after that. As much as he wanted to call Sabrina, it wasn’t time for that. He had to face his past first, and the only way he could do that was to come to a place he hadn’t been in nine months.

His feet felt like lead as he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other and walk up the steps. He fumbled for his keys, then fumbled again to find the one that would unlock the door. He hesitated for a moment, his hand on the knob, before turning it and pushing the door open. His instincts had him reach out for the light switch he knew was right inside the door. The entry flooded with a soft glow.

His footsteps echoed loudly in the entrance of the brownstone. It was eerily quiet, a painful reminder that the life had been snuffed out of the place his mother had so carefully curated over the years. He had expected a thick layer of dust to cover everything, but either Michael or his grandmother had seen that the place was kept up. The faint smell of a lemon cleaner hung in the air, mingling with the odor of abandonment that had permeated the crevices in spite of a cleaning crew’s efforts.

Being there physically hurt.

His chest ached as he stood in the center of the entry, directly under the chandelier his mother had so carefully chosen to replace the one the house had come with. She had lived with the old one for several years, remarking occasionally how much she disliked it but never taking the time to replace it. When he was fourteen, he had wandered through the entry tossing a baseball higher and higher. It had hit the chandelier and shattered it. He had been sure he would be grounded for at least a week. Instead, his mother had sighed, told him to get a broom to sweep up the glass, and immediately went online to find a replacement.

Everywhere he looked was a memory, each one more vivid than the next. He would have never guessed the entry of a home would trigger so much, but the space seemed to represent not only a physical entrance into the house, but an emotional one as well.

He could hear his mother chiding him for sliding down the stair railing as a boy as she stood by the door, tapping her foot impatiently for him to get his backpack so she could drop him off at school on her way to campus.

He could smell his father’s evening cigar, an odor his nose searched out when he wanted to ask his father a question or simply chat with him. A lot of his friends had avoided talking to their parents like the plague as teenagers, but not him. He had genuinely liked his parents, wanted to spend time with them.

He could feel their presence as he took small, tentative steps deeper into the house. They looked back at him from the family portraits on the wall. The artifacts from their travels that dotted shelves, tables, and walls re-told their stories. There should have been the quiet buzz of the television. The clanging of pans in the kitchen. His father should have been shouting at the Browns for fumbling the ball and ignoring the pile of tests he needed to grade. His mother should have been sitting in her desk in her office on the floor above them, working away and occasionally calling out to him to turn down his music or his father to stop playing armchair quarterback.

Instead, the only thing to keep him company was the low hum of electricity.

It was all he could do to make it into the living room and take a seat.

He was so lost in the tsunami of memories washing over him as he sat there in the dark that he didn’t realize he was no longer alone until a lamp flickered to life.

“Welcome home, Nicholas.”

Michael Pruitt was a large man in stature, but his friendly nature made him easy to like. Right now, he looked like he was treading lightly. Nick imagined himself to be a scared, hurt wild animal while Michael was the good Samaritan trying to help him. Given that Michael stood big and broad in the doorway while he all but cowered in the dark, it wasn’t a far off analogy.

“I don’t know if I would call it a welcome,” Nick muttered, any pretense he had at keeping his emotions in check long gone. He didn’t have it in him to pretend he was okay. “I’m here because I fucked up in Greendale.”

“I’m aware.”

Michael stepped into the room and Nick couldn’t help but think of him as another reminder of his dead father. David Scratch and Michael Pruitt had been as thick as thieves since college and their friendship had remained a steady constant through marriages, children, divorce, and death. There had never been a question about whom his godfather would be when he was born. Michael was always the man for the job.

“How are you doing, Nick? Be honest with me.”

Nick sighed, but something about Michael calling him ‘Nick’ eased his heavy heart just a little. Most people – his parents, grandmother, professors – called him ‘Nicholas.’ Michael had always called him ‘Nick,’ much to his mother’s chagrin as she thought ‘Nicholas’ sounded more regal. The shortened name had ultimately been reserved for Michael, his close friends. For Sabrina. The familiarity of hearing his godfather use the name further prompted him to just be honest for a change.

“I’ve been worse.”

That was the truth he had come to the previous day, once he had quite wallowing and started trying to figure out how he would proceed with righting his life. Things weren’t great right now, but they had certainly been worse.

“Grandma tell you where I was?” he wondered.

“No,” Michael shook his head. “I had a feeling you would end up here. I live nearby, remember? I’ve been checking in over the last couple of days. I saw the light on and knew it was you.”

“Who has been keeping the place up?” Nick asked.

“I’ve contracted a cleaning company to come in every couple of weeks. They knock the dust off, make sure things are in order. There’s a repairman who comes around and checks on things. I pop in on occasion, too.” Michael took a seat on the couch and observed the young man he considered his nephew. “Your dad would be raising hell if he saw you sitting in that chair.”

Nick smiled just a bit and ran his hand along the leather armchair. He hadn’t realized where he’d sat when he came in, but he supposed some deep part of him had been driven to his father’s recliner. David had loved that chair as much as his wife had hated it, and Nick had spent half of his childhood trying to sit in it, just to rile his father up.

“It’s still got the indention of his body in it,” he realized.

“I would guess so. The man spent every evening in that thing.” Michael grinned as he remembered his old friend. “He wrote a lot of failing grades in that chair.”

Nick had to chuckle. His father had been notorious for being a difficult professor. When a student did well in his biology classes, it was earned, not given. Despite being a demanding professor, he was still well-loved among his students. It had simply been his way.

“It’s weird, being here,” he admitted.

“When was the last time you came here?” Michael asked.

“The night of Dad’s funeral.” He traced a pattern on the chair’s arm. “I made my way through the bottles of liquor he kept hidden in his study.”

His parents had taken to hiding their alcohol when he was around in an effort to keep him sober. But as an alcoholic and an addict, he had been resourceful and had always been able to sniff out where it was tucked away. His mom kept her wine in the hard to reach cabinet over the fridge. His dad kept his liquor locked in a drawer in his study. Nick had broken the lock to get to it that night. It had been his first sip of alcohol in months. The burn that followed that first sip had soothed a deep ache in his soul. The ones that followed it had numbed it until he could no longer feel it.

Much like it had the night one week earlier when he had gone to Dorian’s against his better judgment.

“You haven’t been back since?” Michael asked with a note of curiosity. Nick shook his head.

“It was too hard to be here. I got drunk that night, woke up passed out in Dad’s study, realized what I’d done, and decided I didn’t care. I left and went to the first open bar I could find.”

“Where did you stay?” Michael continued. He had always been curious about what Nick had done in those days after his father’s funeral. Nick shrugged.

“Anywhere,” he confessed. “I technically lived at Grandma’s.” Michael nodded his agreement. He had known that Amalia Scratch’s address was, at least on paper, Nick’s residence. But he also knew his godson hadn’t been there much. There had been a lot of worried phone calls from Amalia in those days as they tried to pin down Nick’s location. “I would stay out until three, four in the morning, sleep in my car or else go home with someone and then start drinking all over again as soon as I woke up.”

The idea of it made him shutter now. It had been a short-lived relapse, all things considered, but he had spent more time drunk than sober for nearly a month before he found it in himself to go to an AA meeting and find his sobriety once more.

Sobriety that hadn’t even lasted a year.

“What brought you here tonight?” Michael kept up his questions.

“It just felt right,” Nick answered. “I don’t really know what I’m doing here, honestly. I just felt like I needed to be here if I wanted to make any kind of progress.”

“Comfort,” Michael supplied. “Familiarity.”

“I suppose,” Nick agreed. A photo of him with his parents at his undergrad graduation caught his eye. Everyone looked so happy. The photos from his master’s ceremony, none of which were framed, didn’t look nearly as happy, despite the smiles they all wore in them. The tension between him and his parents had been thick and only getting thicker at that point.

“Amalia told me you have a girlfriend.”

“Had,” Nick corrected. There was a pang in his chest that he was growing ever more familiar with whenever he thought of Sabrina. “She broke up with me. Or I broke up with her. I don’t actually know at this point.”

He couldn’t figure out who had broken up with who, or when they had broken up. Was it the afternoon his grandmother showed up? On her porch the next day? In his bathroom? At the dance studio? He just didn’t know. Regardless of who ended things, he was sure he was at fault for the demise of their relationship. Sabrina had fought for him, long before she knew his past. He had resisted letting her gain any traction.

“Do you care about her?”

Nick nodded.

“I do,” he sighed. “I really do.”

He expected Michael to push him about Sabrina, but he didn’t. For that, he was grateful. Sabrina was an open, bleeding wound and he wanted to tend to it on his own. It was one thing to lean on his grandmother and Michael when it came to his parents and his sobriety. But he wanted to work through things with Sabrina on his own. He didn’t know if he would get another chance with her, but his grandmother had already done enough by sharing his past with her. It felt incredibly important to him that he be the one to show Sabrina that he could get his life together and ask her to be a part of it once more.

“You’re not in this alone, Nick,” Michael told him. “Your parents’ assets, your slip, school, your personal life… You’ve got people. You’ve got me, your grandma. You’re not alone.”

“I know.”

He did know that. He knew too if he would have opened up to Sabrina, she would have been there. But his guilt felt insurmountable. His head knew he wasn’t at fault for his parents’ accident. He knew too that he was right in removing his father from life support. But that didn’t ease the pain he felt. It didn’t help his heart believe it.

“You and Grandma keep saying I ‘slipped,’” Nick continued, choosing to focus on that aspect of his life in the moment. “I relapsed. I didn’t slip.”

“A slip is a one-time use, right?” Michael asked. “You haven’t had anything else since have you?”

“No,” Nick shook his head. “I certainly haven’t touched any drugs. I’ve been off of those for a long time.”

He had never really liked how drugs made him feel. He had hated how he felt after they were out of his system even more, however, and so he had quickly become addicted to white powders and bitter pills. Once they were firmly out of his system, he hadn’t craved them again. It was alcohol that was his kryptonite.

“Well, a relapse is something more long term,” Michael pointed out. “You’re not there, Nick. You’re sober. You can choose to stay that way, or you can choose to go back…”

“Alcoholics Anonymous says I’m an alcoholic,” Nick informed him. “One sip, that’s it. You start all over.”

Michael sighed. Nick had always been all or nothing, for better or worse. There was one side of sobriety that said a slip – a one-time occurrence – didn’t take away from one’s sobriety. There was another school of thought – the one Nick subscribed to – that said one taste of alcohol reset the sobriety clock. He himself didn’t agree that Nick’s sobriety had come to an end in Greendale, but it wasn’t his place to try to persuade Nick otherwise.

“I won’t pretend to know what your battle with addiction is like,” he said. “But again, you’re not walking it alone.” Nick clasped his hands together as he leaned his elbows on his knees.

“I know,” he said again. “But like you said, you don’t know what it’s like. I was sober for six months, until Dad died. Then I went nine. I was really proud of myself for staying sober for so long, but in the moment, when I had to choose between facing reality or numbing myself, I chose to numb myself. You said it yourself – you can’t understand what that’s like. I knew I was making the wrong choice, but I just couldn’t stop myself.” Anger at himself tugged at his thoughts. He pushed it away. “I don’t want to be an alcoholic, Michael. I don’t want that to be my reality. But it is. I can be sober ten years from now and still be an alcoholic. That’s something I have to figure out how to deal with.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a better job than you think you are,” Michael told him solemnly. “You’ve been through hell and back, Nick. You’re doing your very best right now, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

“That’s the thing,” Nick sighed. “I know I’m doing the best I can. I just – want to do better.”

Michael decided to take his leave then. He had entered the house not sure what he would find. He was almost ashamed to admit he had expected to discover Nick deep into a bottle. Instead, his nephew, while clearly struggling, was working through things in a way that made sense. He felt okay with leaving him alone to continue to process whatever was on his mind.

“I’m going to head home, see Marianne and the kids,” he said. “You stay here as long as you want to.”

“You’re not going to remind me that I only have a few days to sign the papers to keep all of this from going into a trust?” Nick questioned. He had expected Michael to hover, to needle at him to talk, to remind him eventually of what he stood to lose.

“Not tonight,” Michael shook his head as he stood. “We still have some time to think about things. You do what you need to do tonight.”

“Thank you,” Nick said with a nod. He saw Michael’s gesture for what it was. His godfather trusted he would be okay alone. “And thanks for stopping by. It was good to see you.”

“I’m always a phone call – or, while you’re in Chicago, an Uber ride – away. You know that.”

He left then, leaving Nick alone with his thought.

He sat in the chair for a few more minutes before he was driven to his feet by the urge to see the rest of the house. He wandered into the kitchen. His mom hadn’t been an exceptional cook, but she would make a hearty beef stew when the weather turned cold. It was Nick’s favorite thing she made. The stock pot she used when she made it was perched in its usual place on top of the fridge like it was waiting for her. Curiously, he opened the fridge door. It was empty and it didn’t fill with light, the bulb long ago burned out.

He left the kitchen, peeked into the formal living room they rarely used, then climbed the stairs to the second floor. His mother’s office was across the hall from the landing. He pushed the door open. Her desk was positioned so it faced the door. Someone had cleared it off, but he remembered how it had looked in the days after the accident. Papers had been scattered across it, a textbook open, her place marked with a sticky note that reminded her to pick up milk. A stack of graded tests had been on the floor next to her desk.

It was easy to see her there, her raven hair knotted in a bun, her glasses sliding down her nose. She probably pushed them up a thousand times a day. While his father had worked anywhere he felt like it, his mother had only ever worked in her office. She had believed the rest of the house was meant for living in. It was the one place in the house in which she was messy, her office a direct reflection of how her brain had always been spinning a mile a minute, thinking about lesson plans, essays she had to grade, chores she needed to accomplish, what she wanted to cook for dinner that night. His father had teased her about it endlessly but had told Nick often enough that her office was the nucleus of the house, his mother the mitochondria of their family. He had rolled his eyes at how his father compared their family dynamic to how a cell functioned, but as an adult he understood the comparison perfectly.

He picked up a photo of him as a child she kept on the desk. He thought he looked ridiculous, no more than eight years old, a little chunky, entirely awkward as he posed next to the remains of a t-rex at the Natural History Museum in Washington, D.C. He missed those days. They were a hell of a lot simpler.

He left the room and made his way down the hallway. He didn’t bother peeking in on the two guest rooms on the floor, nor the half bath in the hallway. Instead, he let himself into his father’s study. He had to smile a bit as he thought of how as a teenager he had smartly asked why he called it a ‘study’ when it was clearly an ‘office.’ His father had informed him a ‘study’ sound more sophisticated in his opinion and as he paid the mortgage, he could call it whatever he wanted. Nick had known from that day on that he would have a study of his own someday.

While his mom’s office had been traditional and academic, his father’s study was lively, even without anyone to breathe life into it. Sports memorabilia representing the various Chicago sports teams decorated the walls and shelves. Nick had gotten his love of the teams from his father and standing there, hands in his pockets, wearing a Bears t-shirt under his jacket, memories from games they had attended over the years flipped through his mind like a scrapbook.

He found himself thinking he would like to take Sabrina to a Blackhawks game. The thought came out of nowhere. He closed his eyes and shook his head in an effort to erase it. He couldn’t think about taking her to hockey games, not when he wasn’t sure she would even allow him to take her to coffee right now.

He stayed for a few more minutes, browsing the shelves, remembering, noting his father had pendants from not only Northwestern, his undergrad and his wife’s too, but Washington University and Oxford too, before he exited. If David Scratch was still alive, there would have been a Greendale University pendant added to mark his son’s next academic endeavor. He ignored their master bedroom at the other end of the hall. He couldn’t do that tonight. Instead, he climbed to the third floor.

The stairs opened into a spacious recreational area. It was still set up as it had been when he was a teenager with a pool table in the center of it, a TV, plenty of seating. He had spent countless hours there with his friends, hanging out, playing pool badly, eating whatever they found in the kitchen. It was only now that he realized how idyllic it had been, like something out of a wholesome family sitcom.

His bedroom and bathroom were the only other rooms on the floor. Again, only now did he note that his parents had allotted him an entire floor to call his own. He had wondered over the years why he didn’t have a sibling, but now, the thought struck him hard. His parents had been the best parents, the kind destined to have a house full of kids. They had only had him. And he surely had disappointed them.

He shook his head as he walked into his room. It too hadn’t been touched since he last lived there. It was like a shrine to him in some ways, his books still lining the shelves, his awards still on display. Even the bedding on his full-sized bed was the same. He sat down on the bed and let his chin fall to his chest.

The realization struck him hard and fast, without any warning. Pure clarity overcame him. It was as though someone somewhere had finally given him the answer he had been looking for for months. He exhaled, sat up straight, and found his phone before he changed his mind. Michael answered after two rings.

“Nicholas?”

“I can’t give this up,” Nick replied by way of greeting. His words were rushed, urgent. “I can’t let their lives slip into an untouchable vault.”

“Okay,” Michael said simply. He understood entirely what Nick meant. “We will take care of things in the next few days.”

“Thank you,” Nick said. “I’m sorry it took me so long…”

“No need to apologize,” Michael cut him off. “You needed to find your way in your own time. Suffices to say being on time has never been your strong suit anyway.”

Nick had to chuckle a bit. Michael wasn’t wrong.

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned. “You might not know the answer, but I was wondering…”

“Ask me anything,” Michael assured him. Nick heard the sounds of his Michael’s daughters bickering in the background. It was appropriate background noise for his inquiry.

“Why didn’t Mom and Dad have more kids? They were such good parents and this house is so big…”

“They wanted a house full of kids,” Michael shared. “But it was hard for them to get pregnant. There were at least two miscarriages and a failed IVF attempt before you were conceived.” Nick cringed. He had no idea. “When they found out they were pregnant with you, your dad told me right away. Your mom was furious.” Michael chuckled at the memory. “She wanted to wait until she was further along to tell people, but your dad couldn’t wait. I was the first one who knew you were going to be a boy, too.”

“Dad told you all of his secrets,” Nick mused.

“He was excited,” Michael corrected. “I had only ever seen him get excited about two other things in his life before you came along – sports and your mother.”

“They were good parents,” Nick said again. “The best, actually.”

“They really were,” Michael agreed. “You were their world, Nick.”

Nick was quiet for a few beats.

“Thank you, Michael,” he finally said. “I know I’ve been an asshole for a long time. You’ve done so much for me… For my parents, my grandmother…”

“You had your moments,” Michael agreed. “But I think you’re turning it around.” The sound of his girls filled the background again. “Hold on, Nick.” He moved the phone away from his mouth, but Nick still heard him reprimand them. “Sorry about that. Eleanor goes from a college student to a twelve-year-old when she’s home with her sister.”

“How old are they now?” Nick wondered. Michael had gotten a little bit of a later start in settling down with a wife and kids after a disastrous short-lived first marriage. He had vague memories of Michael’s girls, but he had been away at college, first in St. Louis and then in England and hadn’t really gotten to know them.

“Ellie will be twenty in January. Just got home from college for Thanksgiving break. Hannah is thirteen and it shows.” Nick chuckled. “You should come over, have dinner with us while you’re here. Marianne would love to see you.”

“Maybe,” Nick agreed. “Let me know when I can sign?”

“I will,” Michael promised. “We’ll do it in the next day or two, okay?”

“Before I change my mind?” Nick countered.

“Before I shut down my office for the holiday,” Michael said. Nick wasn’t convinced. “If you need anything…”

“I know who to call,” Nick finished.

He ended the call and exhaled.

He felt lighter.

The decision to take on his parents’ assets really had been easy in the end. He couldn’t give up their home, their assets, the things they had worked so hard for. He had felt guilty for a long time, viewed their leaving him everything they had as a cruel twist of fate when he himself had put them through so much, never mind the fact that he felt responsible for their deaths. It was contorted logic. It was one thing for him to access the trust fund he had come into at eighteen, to use the funds set aside for school and to even purchase his sports car. It was another thing to be granted their estate. They weren’t overtly wealthy by any means, but they had done well for themselves, had been able to comfortably afford their upscale brownstone, luxury cars, European vacations.

To send their son to the best private schools in Chicago and then fund his studies and an expensive stent in rehab.

But they loved him. It wasn’t just stuff he was getting. It was the rewards of their hard work, the long hours they put in, the countless students they taught. It was their love for him, their wish for him to succeed in life.

A decision made, he went back through the house, turning off lights as he went. He paused at the front door and took another breath. He would come back tomorrow, spend more time going through their things, remembering.

Healing.

He turned off the entry light and made sure the door was locked.

As he stepped out into the cold Chicago air once more, he felt hopeful for the first time in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Heavy? Maybe? As someone who experienced delayed grief, I poured a bit of my own experience in facing a parent's death well after the fact into how Nick is approaching things now. 
> 
> Another note - alcoholism and sobriety is something else I have family experience with. Addiction is highly individualized and how Nick is approaching it is what's "right" in this case, but may not be right for you or a loved one. Just a PSA there. 
> 
> I'm going to go eat some vegetables now... 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this one? 
> 
> Next update is tomorrow - and Sabrina is back! :)


	19. All Too Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted a chapter last night, a couple days behind schedule, so if you haven't read about Nick visiting his parents' home in Chicago, click that previous chapter button before you read this one! 
> 
> Also, "All Too Well" is my very favorite Taylor song and these lyrics are perfect. :)

_Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much_   
_But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up_   
_Running scared, I was there, I remember it all too well_

“This is driving me insane.”

“It is too quiet,” Sabrina agreed from where she sat curled up at the end of the couch thumbing through one of Hilda’s cooking magazines.

“No,” Ambrose shook his head. He put his laptop aside and gave Sabrina his full attention. “I want to know things. Why did you and Nick break up? Why did he go back to Chicago for the remainder of the semester?”

“Why we broke up is none of your business,” she informed him, actively avoiding looking his direction. “And why he went back to Chicago early is his business.” She dog eared a recipe she wanted to try the next time Hilda left her to fend for herself. But she had also long ago learned that if she turned down a page in one of Hilda’s magazines, the meal would likely appear on the dinner table one night soon. It was like an odd ordering system at a restaurant. “It’s not like he cared enough to tell me why he was leaving.”

Today was an angry day.

She swung between being furious at Nick for not being honest with her and heartbroken that things had ended the way they had. It wasn’t rational or fair, but sometimes, like today, anger was the only emotion that made sense to her. She didn’t want to hear about Nick’s past from his grandmother. She wanted _him_ to tell her. She wanted him to trust her enough to open up to her, let her help him shoulder his burden.

Instead, she was in Greendale, mourning the loss of her relationship while she tried to figure out what, exactly, she was doing with her life. Just as things were starting to look up with Nick and dance, the rug had been pulled out from under her. It was truly three steps forward, two steps back. After a year of ended engagements and failed plans, she was exhausted from it all.

“He just – left,” Ambrose continued, oblivious to Sabrina’s internal conflict. “Didn’t even tell anyone goodbye…”

Sabrina stared at him.

“You act like he broke with _you._ ”

“He’s my friend,” Ambrose defended himself. “He’s both the first friend I’ve had in a long time that’s both interested in anthropology and not a complete bore.” He made a face. “I’ll admit it. I miss him.”

Sabrina had to roll her eyes at Ambrose’s dramatics.

“I think you’ll make it,” she said with bitterness.

“I’m sorry,” Ambrose apologized, realizing he was crossing a line. He missed his friend, but Sabrina had lost her boyfriend. She was the one truly hurting, not him. “I just don’t like being in the dark about whatever happened. If I could help him, I’d like to…”

“Wouldn’t we all?” Sabrina muttered, a fresh wave of irritation rolling through her.

“He hasn’t replied to my texts,” Ambrose continued. “All I did was wish him a happy Thanksgiving. He could have said ‘thanks.’ Let someone know he’s still alive at least.”

“You’re texting him?” Sabrina asked.

“You’re not?” he countered.

“We broke up, remember?”

“About that.” Ambrose moved to the edge of his seat. “Who actually broke up with who? I’m quite confused about it.”

“I don’t know,” Sabrina admitted. “I guess I broke up with him. But then I had to go get him at Dorian’s, and things happened… I thought maybe I should stick around, try to be there for him. I gave him a chance and he didn’t take it.”

Ambrose considered her.

“I would give a lot better advice if you just told me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Ambrose,” Sabrina sighed.

“It would help,” he urged.

“You’re nosy,” Sabrina countered.

“That too,” Ambrose admitted. “But you’re all mopey and Prudence has gone off to the tropics with her sisters for Thanksgiving – which I don’t understand, but whatever – and the aunts are out. I’m _bored,_ Sabrina. Bored enough to ask about your problems.”

“You’re nosy,” she said again. Still, she did need someone to talk to and Roz was spending the holiday largely with Harvey. “Nick – had a hard time being in a relationship. He’s never been in one before. Couple that with some personal stuff he had going on that he didn’t want to talk about and it all boiled over.”

“Did you push him?” Ambrose asked in that annoyingly knowing way of his.

“Maybe more than I should have,” Sabrina admitted. “I tried to be there for him, but he wasn’t interested. Or maybe he wasn’t capable, I don’t know. I thought we had something special, but in the end, I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

That’s what hurt the most. She had done everything she could to be there for him, but he outright told her he didn’t want her to be. Walking away from someone she cared about because they didn’t want her to be in their life when she knew they needed someone went against everything she believed in. But it was reality, and she had to accept it.

“I’m sorry, cousin,” Ambrose offered with sincerity. “I really thought it was going to work out between the pair of you.”

“I did too,” Sabrina confessed. She had started to think Nick might even be ‘the one.’ “But I guess I’m back on the market.”

“I can set you up with my friend…”

“It was a figure of speech,” Sabrina interrupted Ambrose’s offer to set her up with one of his friends she was sure she would have nothing in common with. “I’m not remotely ready to date again.” She decided to change the subject before Ambrose could press the topic any further. “I’ve actually got some news on the not Nick front.”

“I’m intrigued,” Ambrose leaned forward.

“I’m moving out.”

He stared at her.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m moving out,” Sabrina repeated. “Cee’s renter just moved out of his cottage. I asked him if I could move in. He agreed. I had to haggle with him about rent – he didn’t want to charge me any and I refused to stay for free – but I’m moving in this weekend.”

“What in the fresh hell is causing this move?” Ambrose wondered, his indignation clear. “You have no need to move out…”

“Are you going to miss me?” Sabrina asked with a teasing tone.

“I just don’t understand the sudden decision to move…”

“Since March, I’ve ended my engagement, moved back in with the aunties, agreed to let my best friend date my ex-fiancé, met Nick, dropped out of law school…”

“I thought you withdrew,” Ambrose interjected. Sabrina gave him a look.

“… started teaching dance nearly fulltime, and now broken up with Nick. That’s a lot of crap to go through in eight months. And it’s come in waves. Really, most of it happened in the last three months. I need to find some stability in my life, Ambrose. I need to figure out what I’m doing. Being here at the mortuary is wonderful, but it’s safe. I’ve got Hilda cooking three meals a day for me and I’m sleeping in my childhood bedroom. I need my own space to figure out what I’m doing with my life.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Ambrose said begrudgingly. “Have you told the aunts yet?”

“Is the house still standing?” Sabrina countered. Ambrose chuckled.

“Zelda will probably help you pack,” he mused. “She’s been trying to kick me out for years. Something about being independent.”

“Self-sufficient,” Sabrina corrected. “You’re quite independent. Zelda wants you to take care of yourself.”

“Why do that when, as you pointed out, I’ve got Hilda cooking for me? I’ll be out in the field soon enough. No shame in taking advantage of it while I can.”

“You barely sleep here anyway,” Sabrina shrugged. “It’s Hilda that I’m worried about.”

“Hilda is going to be less than thrilled,” Ambrose agreed.

“I’m going to tell them tonight,” Sabrina told him. “I decided to let Thanksgiving go off without a hitch. Today is Black Friday. I figure both Zelda and Hilda will be tired from their annual shopping trip in the city. I’m going to heat up leftovers and have them ready when they get home, make things nice and cozy. And then I’ll break the news while their wallets are lighter and their bellies are full.”

“It’s diabolical,” Ambrose said. “Using their favorite consumerism driven holiday against them.” Sabrina rolled her eyes again. “I’m not sure if I’m going to clear out or sit back and watch how all of this plays out.”

“You’re going to stick around,” Sabrina predicted. “Your girlfriend…”

“Prudence is not my girlfriend…”

“…Is out of the country with her family and nothing good happens at Dorian’s until after eleven. You won’t miss out on family drama you didn’t create.”

“I’m still waiting for Zelda to off you for quitting law school,” Ambrose stated. “I don’t buy her act of acceptance one bit.”

“I withdrew," she quipped. Ambrose chuckled and shook his head.

“You’re really putting the aunts through it,” he said. “Zelda seemingly survived law school gate, but Hilda… Hilda might not make it when you tell her you’re abandoning ship. One less person to cook for, care for…”

“She’ll be fine,” Sabrina said. “Upset for a day or two, but fine in the end. She’ll probably go buy more plants to fill the void.” That’s what Hilda did when she was upset. She added to her garden or her greenhouse. Cee called it her ‘coping mechanism’ early into their relationship and they had all realized what they thought of as an odd Hilda quirk was, in fact, the way she coped when any one of them threw life into upheaval.

She had bought a lot of plants during Ambrose and Sabrina’s teenage years.

“Any ideas as to what you’re going to do?” Ambrose questioned.

“Dance,” Sabrina answered easily. “But other than that? I don’t know.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Ambrose said with confidence. “You always do.”

“What a year,” Sabrina sighed, picking up her magazine again. “Two breakups, a career change…”

“And we’ve still got a whole month to go,” Ambrose said cheekily. Sabrina groaned.

“Don’t remind me.”

She had little hope that the remainder of the year would give her peace. At the rate things were going for her, she fully expected locust or famine by New Year’s Eve.

At least she would have a place of her own to greet the new year.

She was already looking forward to downing an entire bottle of champagne and eating her weight in Chinese food all alone in the living room of Cee’s quaint cottage. It wasn’t particularly exciting, but she, Roz, Harvey, Theo, and Robin had gone into the city to welcome their current year dancing wildly and drinking too much champagne. Harvey had kissed her right at the stroke of midnight and proven that particular New Year’s myth to be false. If greeting the turn of the calendar with a lavish celebration had resulted in such upheaval, surely taking a more simple approach would warrant a different outcome.

Surely next year would be better.

It had to be.

* * *

Sabrina Spellman had never set foot in Chicago, and yet she was everywhere.

Nick thought of her as the scent of cinnamon courtesy of Michael’s secretary’s Christmas décor filled his nostrils as he signed papers to take control of his parents’ estate. He saw her in the billboard advertising this year’s rendition of the Nutcracker ballet. She was every platinum blonde he spotted on the busy Chicago streets. She was in every cup of coffee his bought at his favorite coffee shop, every greasy sandwich he picked up at his favorite diner. He went to a Bears game with Michael and damned if she wasn’t there too, first in the dancers and then in the t-shirt he bought while he was there. She had never worn it, but she had slept in another one of his well-worn Chicago Bears t-shirt several times and he could see her in this one, too.

He had almost called her a dozen times. He had gone as far as opening his contacts and hovering his finger over her phone number at least half of those times. He had started countless text messages but never sent them, never sure of what to say, of how to open the lines of communication after he had so firmly shut them down.

And damned if his grandmother hadn’t made chicken picatta for dinner that night, just as Sabrina had for their first date.

Sabrina’s tasted better.

She was on his mind as he helped Amalia clean up from dinner. He decided to just go for it and ask the question he had been turning over for a couple of days now.

“Grandma?”

“Nicholas?” Amalia countered as she busied herself with filling a kettle with water.

“When you talked to Sabrina before we left Greendale, how was she?”

Amalia stopped and turned to Nick with a certain amount of surprise at hearing Sabrina’s name come from him.

Signing the papers to take over his parents’ assets had done wonders for him. So had the amount of time he was spending at his parents’ place. She had no idea what he did there, but he was always home for dinner and he was always sober, so she didn’t question things. His mood felt lighter. There wasn’t a heavy weight dragging him down any longer. Spending time there seemed to be doing him a lot of good. But the fact that he was bringing up Sabrina made her hopeful that things really were turning around for him.

“What do you mean?” she asked in an effort to feel out where he was going with the question.

“I mean… How was she?” he repeated. “Was she mad?” Amalia frowned.

“What would she be mad about?”

“I wasn’t exactly honest with her,” he reminded his grandmother. “And without rehashing it, I said some pretty cruel things to her in my bathroom.”

He remembered everything. He knew he had told her he loved her while drunk. He had even said it twice. But then he had violently pushed her away, not physically, but with words. And still, despite his words, she had stood there in his small cramped bathroom and told him she was leaving the apartment, but not him. She had continued to fight for him, try to be there for him.

He had put the final nail in the coffin when he had shown up at the dance studio and then offered her nothing. At the time, he couldn’t. He had been emotionally exhausted. His brain and his mouth wouldn’t connect to get the words he wanted to say out. But he had needed – physically needed – to see her one more time before he left for Chicago. It was a selfish move when he hadn’t been able to offer her so much as an explanation but seeing her that day had felt as necessary as breathing. It had ripped him apart to watch her walk away, and then those pieces had been ripped even more when she drove away from him, from their relationship.

All because he couldn’t say what he needed to say.

He didn’t wonder who ended their relationship anymore.

He knew now.

It was him.

She had fought for him until she had been forced to give up.

He missed her.

God, he missed her.

“I don’t know what you said, but I’m certain it hurt her,” Amalia told him. A pained expression crossed Nick’s features. “But her compassion, her want to be there for you? It was palpable. She wanted to be there for you, Nicholas. She didn’t want things to end between you.”

“I might have changed her opinion the next day.”

He had spent a lot of time beating himself up over both not being the one to share his past with Sabrina and of how he had acted the last time he saw her. He almost wondered if it would have been better to have not seen her at all.

Except then, he wouldn’t have seen her at all.

“I think it would take a lot to rattle that girl’s opinion of you,” Amalia said. She eyed him then. “You didn’t mistreat her, did you?”

Nick shook his head.

“I tried my best to treat her well, to be a gentleman. I just didn’t tell her the truth.” He fiddled with rotating spice rack Amalia kept on the counter. “That’s all she wanted, really. Me to be honest with her, let her in. She knew I was keeping things from her.”

“Do you think you could be honest with her now, if she were to give you another chance?”

Nick nodded. He was certain he would be able to share his version of events now.

“She knows everything now anyway, but I still have some explaining to do.” He spun the spice rack again. “I had a hard time introducing her to people as my girlfriend. You witnessed that.”

“Why?” Amalia put the kettle on the stove and turned it on. “Frankly speaking, she’s the kind of girl you should be proud to have on your arm and to introduce as your girlfriend.”

“She is,” Nick nodded. “I loved having her by my side. I felt like the luckiest guy in the world when I held her hand. But I’ve never had a girlfriend, Grandma. I fell hard and fast and then I freaked out.” He spun the rack one more time.

“Will you stop that?” Amalia chided. Nick gave her a small guilty grin. It reminded him of his childhood when she would fuss at him for doing similar annoying things while she cooked or tried to focus on whatever task she was involved in. It had made his grandpa chuckle. Sometimes the man had even put him up to it. “Do you have any intention of reaching out to her?”

“I’m going back to Greendale after the holidays,” he reminded Amalia. “It’s a small town. I couldn’t avoid her if I tried. It might take some time, but I’d run into her in the grocery store, at the diner, or even just out on the street.” He made to spin the rack again but stopped himself when he caught his grandmother’s warning look. “She likes the farmer’s market on Saturday mornings and it’s right outside my window.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Amalia pointed out. “It’s one thing to run into her. It’s another thing to pick up the phone and call her.”

“I’m thinking about it,” Nick admitted. It was the dominant thought he had these days. “I just need to find both my words and my courage.”

“If there is one thing you have in spades – aside from intelligence – it is courage,” Amalia said with confidence. Nick snorted.

“Hardly. I’ve spent the last however many months avoiding my past until it came home to roost. I have been anything but courageous.”

“Not just any young man can go through what you’ve gone through and come out on the other side,” Amalia reminded him. “You chose to go to AA on your own after your father died, remember? That was courageous. So was packing up your things and moving to Greendale, allowing yourself to get close to Sabrina. Things got complicated, but here you are, working through it, facing some hard things. That’s courageous, Nicholas.”

“We’ll agree to disagree on that,” Nick said. Still, he could see his grandmother’s point. Looking back, he had made some courageous moves, even if they felt like anything but in the moment.

“I’ll figure it out.” He spun the rack one more time. Amalia glared at him. He gave her a real grin. “Sorry.” She just shook her head. “You didn’t really answer my question though. You just said she was compassionate and looked like she didn’t want things to end between us. How was she?”

“She seemed sad,” Amalia told him. “She listened, her eyes teared up a few times. I could tell she wanted to run to you and tell you everything was going to be okay, but that she also knew it wasn’t the right thing to do in the moment.”

“She was sad?” Nick clarified, feeling guilty. He didn’t want to be the one that made her sad.

“Can you blame her?” Amalia countered.

“No,” Nick shook his head. “I just don’t want to be the one that makes her feel like that.” He wanted to be the one that made her happy, made her laugh. “I love her, Grandma. I’ve never told her while sober. I even told her I didn’t love her the morning after I got drunk.”

“What possessed you to do that?” Amalia wondered.

“I didn’t think I deserved it,” Nick explained. “I thought I was doing the right thing by letting her go.”

“And was that the right thing?”

Nick considered the question.

“No,” he finally answered. “Not at all.” He exhaled a long breath. “I owe her an explanation,” he said. “Whether I can call upon this courage you seem to think I have and call her before I accidentally run into her around Greendale is anyone’s guess.”

“I’d be willing to bet you’ll find your reserve of courage,” Amalia said. She picked up her now steaming kettle. “Will you want some tea?”

“No,” Nick shook his head and pushed off the counter. “I’m going to go down the street and pick up a coffee. I’ve got final papers to grade for the class I’m a TA in and I need to proof my own last paper of the semester and submit it. It’s going to be a late night. I need something stronger than what you’ve got here.”

“How did you get the papers?” Amalia wondered. “I didn’t notice any packages come.”

“It’s all digital, Grandma,” Nick said with a hint of amusement. Amalia waved her hand.

“You kids with your technology,” she dismissed. He chuckled a bit. “I’d tell you not to stay up too late, but I know that’s a lost cause.”

“Want anything from the café?” Nick said by way of confirmation.

“No,” Amalia shook her head. “I’ll see you in the morning I suppose.”

“See you in the morning,” Nick echoed.

He checked his pocket for his phone and wallet, then put on his heavy winter coat. He pulled on gloves and a scarf to ward off the mid-December cold. It was flurrying outside as he walked the couple of blocks to a nearby café, his thoughts full of Sabrina.

He had nearly sent her a ‘Happy Thanksgiving’ message a couple of weeks ago. He had typed it out and everything before deciding it was a cop out. She deserved more than a ‘Happy Thanksgiving’ after two weeks of radio silence. And so he kept searching for what to say, how to say it. He had to say something. He wanted another chance.

He wanted to tell her he loved her.

The coffee shop was busier than he expected it to be this late in the evening thanks to a neighborhood Christmas celebration taking place nearby. He removed his gloves and took out his phone for something to occupy him while he waited for his order.

Ambrose Spellman had texted him.

_Hey, Nick. Checking in. Hope all is well and that we’ll see you back in Greendale after the holidays._

He read the text again. Ambrose had texted him a couple of other times, right after he left, then again at Thanksgiving, both messages similar to this one. He hadn’t been ready to reply, but he felt different now. Stronger, both mentally and, he thought, emotionally too.

And Ambrose was a connection to Sabrina.

_Hey, Ambrose. Sorry for not replying. Doing okay. Finishing up my last paper for the semester tonight. Planning to be back in Greendale after the New Year._

Ambrose’s reply was almost instant.

_You’re alive! Good. Was worried. Thought I might have to go back to being the only cool Ph.D. on campus._

Nick grinned just a bit.

_Just needed some time._

It was more than he would have confided to anyone just a month ago.

_Understandable._

Nick wondered how much Ambrose knew. His gut told him Sabrina hadn’t shared anything with him. She wasn’t like that. She wouldn’t divulge his past when she knew how hard it had been for him to share it himself. But Ambrose was smart. He had likely figured out plenty on his own.

He tapped out another message before he could talk himself down.

_How is Sabrina?_

It felt like an eternity, watching the bubbles while Ambrose typed out his reply.

_She’s her. She moved out of the Aunties a couple of weeks ago and into the cottage Cee lived in before he married Hilda. Dragging us all to the winter dance recital tomorrow night. Is she dancing in it? No. But her students are and apparently I’m to support that._

Nick’s chest panged with something that felt a lot like longing. If he were in Greendale, if things were different, he would have gone to that recital too. He would have done so proudly, content to watch Sabrina’s students display what they had learned from her in the weeks she had been working with them. He would have brought her flowers because he knew that’s what people did after recitals.

Instead, he was in Chicago and no longer in a position to be the one that brought her flowers

“Final call for a Nicholas?”

The barista calling his name, apparently yet again, jarred him from his thoughts. He thanked her and took his drink. He didn’t bother putting his gloves back on as he stepped back into the cold, snowy night.

900 miles separated him from Greendale.

But the distance between him and Sabrina felt at least twice as far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little post-Thanksgiving scene with Sabrina and Ambrose with Sabrina having a moment with the year she had (ain't we all, though?), and then a couple of weeks later with Nick who really seems to be in a better place - and really seems to want his girl back, too. 
> 
> Next update - Christmas. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts! I say it all the time, but I LOVE reading your comments!


	20. Christmas Tree Farm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmastime, anyone? 
> 
> We're going to progress through (some) of the holiday season...

_Sweet dreams of holly and ribbon_   
_Mistakes are forgiven_   
_And everything is icy and blue_   
_And you would be there too_

Sabrina was tired, but she was also happy.

The winter recital had gone well. There had been a few minor hiccups and some of the youngest dancers had forgotten their choreography, but overall, she was pleased. She liked how it felt to see the choreography she developed come to life on stage with lights and costumes. She had never felt this self-satisfied sort of feeling in law school. She had felt proud of herself on occasion, usually when she managed a decent grade or received a compliment on her work from a professor, but this was different. This was pride in her work, but with the twist of seeing her students perform it.

Dropping out of law school might have been the best thing she had ever done.

She parked her car in its spot at Cee’s – her – cottage and cursed herself for forgetting, yet again, to leave the porch light on. She kept leaving the cottage when it was daylight, outdoor lights far from her mind, and coming home in the dark. The path from her car to the door was familiar now, but at first, she had stumbled and tripped her way to the house most evenings, particularly when there was no moon or clouds covered its light.

She liked living at the cottage. It had only been a couple of weeks, but she liked having her own space. It was on a quiet lane, not quite as far out of town as the mortuary, but still to itself. She could see her neighbors, but their lights were pinpricks in the night. It was a cozy place, homey. She liked putting her own touches on it and had plans to string a few Christmas lights outside the next day, maybe even put up a tree. Christmas was only two weeks away but with moving, she hadn’t had the time to decorate yet. Although she had certainly helped decked the halls at the mortuary, even as she moved her stuff out the weekend after Thanksgiving. There were some traditions she just couldn’t give up.

She paused at the porch steps to find her keys in her tote, her dance bag swinging wildly as she rummaged. Her hand closed around them easily and she breathed a sigh of relief for that particular grace. She climbed the few stairs as she tried to figure out which of her keys would unlock the door in the dark. Her toe bumped into something on her doormat that shouldn’t have been there.

“What?” she muttered. She thought about her phone’s flashlight then. It was in the depths of her bag and she wished she would have thought of it before she ever left the car. She hurried along with unlocking her door and bustling through it. She dumped her bags unceremoniously in the floor and turned on the porch light.

There, on her doorstep, was a dozen brilliant red roses. She broke into a smile and picked up the vase. She used her foot to shut the door behind her. Salem meowed at her from the floor, demanding her attention.

“I see you,” she said. “But let me see who sent these flowers first.”

She searched the roses for a card.

There wasn’t one.

She picked the vase up and peered into it, just in case it had fallen into the vase itself. Nothing. Thinking it may have fallen out on the doormat, she opened the door again and looked around – nothing there either. There was no note, not even a receipt to tell her where they originated from. She took a photo and sent it to the group text she kept with her aunts and Ambrose.

_Any of you send me flowers?_

She picked them up and carried them into the living room. She moved them a couple of time, searching for just the right spot. The coffee table wasn’t right, nor was the side table. She finally settled on placing them next to the TV, then returned to the entry to pick up her phone. She ignored her bags in the floor and sat down on the couch to check her phone. Salem curled around her legs and purred as she absentmindedly stroked his fur with one hand.

_No._

Zelda, quick and to the point.

_I didn’t, but how lovely!_

Hilda, her favorite aunt. Currently.

_You didn’t dance. You get no flowers._

Ambrose, who she hated.

She opened up his contact and sent him a quick _Jerk._ She then texted Roz and Theo.

 _Any chance one of you sent me flowers?_ She attached the photo of the roses.

 _Not me, but they’re gorgeous!_ Roz replied almost right away.

 _Not us,_ Theo wrote. _Travel day._

She knew it wouldn’t be Harvey. Of that she was certain. But if not Harvey, who?

_Nick._

His name came to her from a quiet place within her. She shook her head no as though disagreeing with a physical person. It wouldn’t be Nick. She hadn’t heard from him in a month. He wouldn’t start now and certainly not with a dozen roses.

Her phone lit up, indicating another text. This one was from Roz to just her.

_Any chance they’re from Nick?_

One side of Sabrina’s lips lifted. Roz had always had the uncanny ability to practically read her mind.

_Doubtful. Haven’t talked to him since he left._

She put her phone aside and leaned into the cushions of the comfortable old couch. She turned on the TV and found a cheesy Christmas movie that was halfway over. The roses kept catching her attention, however. They were the reddest of reads, utterly beautiful.

She wished she knew who sent them.

* * *

Sabrina peered at the cheese board she had assembled with a critical eye. Hilda had taught her a lot of things, but the importance of a good cheese board was one life lesson in particular that she swore by. She prided herself on her presentation skills, and she wasn’t satisfied with what was before her. She swapped the bowl of pomegranate seeds with the circle of brie.

“Better,” she said to Salem who was perched in a kitchen chair and entirely uninterested in her. “It’s more balanced now. But…” She dug through a drawer and produced a Christmas tree cookie cutter. She had to hand it to Ambrose – his gift of a set of holiday cookie cutters as a housewarming gift was thoughtful. He knew she not only liked to not only bake but used Hilda’s cookie cutters to craft her cheese board creations.

She expertly pressed the cutter into the center of the brie as though she were cutting cookie dough and carefully removed the shape. She filled the tree shape it left behind with pomegranate seeds, then delicately placed the Christmas tree-shaped brie cut out in the center of her bowl of seeds on the opposite side of the board. She artfully added fruit, a few more crackers, and several more chunks of the cheese she had already cubed.

“Perfect,” she declared. Salem meowed in response.

She busied herself with final preparations and was setting out plates and utensils when there was a knock at the door. She glanced at the clock. It wasn’t quite time for her friends to arrive. She went to answer and smiled. She could only see a shadow through the door’s clouded glass, backlit by her twinkling Christmas lights outside, but she would know that head of hair anywhere. She threw open the door.

“You’re early!”

“Just a few minutes,” Roz replied with a smile. She held up a bottle of wine in each hand. “And I’ve got the goods.”

“Come in,” Sabrina chuckled. “Where’s Harvey?”

“He worked a little late and needed a shower. He’ll be here soon.”

“It’ll be good for all of us to be together again,” Sabrina mused. Tonight would be the first night she and Harvey had spent any length of time together since she ended their engagement. She was nervous, but she thought they were both in a place to handle it.

“I’m just glad Theo and Robin decided to grace us with their presence for a few days,” Roz replied.

“They’re actually spending Christmas in Greendale this year,” Sabrina agreed. “Come on. I’m just about finished setting up.”

“You went all out, didn’t you?” Roz guessed as she followed her friend into the kitchen.

“Hardly,” Sabrina scoffed. “I’ve only lived here a few weeks. I keep starting things in the kitchen, then realizing I don’t have what I need to finish it. Amazon should just set up a warehouse in the backyard at this rate.”

“What?” Roz asked. “No torch to finish off your baked Alaska?” Sabrina gave her a look which made Roz laugh. Sabrina had grown up at Hilda’s elbow. She not only knew her way around a kitchen, she was comfortable working with equipment the average weeknight chef like Roz had never heard of. Sabrina hadn’t realized how often she had starting using Hilda’s until she didn’t have access to them anymore. Roz took in Sabrina’s spread as she placed the wine on the kitchen island. “If this isn’t going all out…”

“If I were going all out, we would be having a five-course meal,” Sabrina stated. “This is…” she surveyed her work. “Heavy snacks.”

Roz just shook her head in amusement. Sabrina had laid out a large, elaborate charcuterie boar along with an equally impressive dessert board full of holiday-themed cookies and candy. She had also made a hearty chili in her slow cooker and had homemade still warm bread bowls and all the toppings they could want laid out in neat little dishes.

“Need any help?” she asked even if she already knew the answer.

“It’s all taken care of,” Sabrina said. She was notorious for hosting – and doing it all herself, just like Hilda. She smiled a bit. “It’s nice, getting to do this,” she admitted. “If I was still at the mortuary, Hilda would have kept trying to help, Ambrose would be stealing food, Zelda making her usual unhelpful comments…”

“You like living here, don’t you?” Roz observed.

“I do,” Sabrina nodded. “I like having my own space. This is the first time I’ve ever lived alone.” She had gone from the mortuary to sharing a cramped one-bedroom apartment with Harvey and back again. One of the few things she had missed about that apartment was not having a place to host her friends without her family’s interference. “My only complaint so far is my inability to remember to turn on the porch light on my way out. It gets dark so early that I almost always come home in the pitch black and of course I never think to use my phone’s flashlight until I’m halfway to the house and can’t find it in my bag.”

Roz laughed and reached for a bottle of wine.

“Can I pour you a glass?” she asked. Sabrina nodded.

“Please.”

Sabrina had, of course, already put her corkscrew and wine glasses on the counter. Roz easily pulled the cork. She poured a glass for Sabrina, then another for herself.

“So,” Roz began as she perched on one of Sabrina’s stools, glass in hand, “while it’s just us – how are you doing?”

Sabrina shrugged. This was why Roz had shown up before everyone else. So she could check in on her.

“I’m here,” she said. “I’m bored out of my mind. The studio is on winter break, so I’m not teaching until after the new year. I’m running out of things to do to fill my time.”

“What have you been doing?” Roz questioned.

“I’ve spent a lot of time decorating this place,” Sabrina shared. “I’ve read a few books, watched an embarrassing amount of TV. I went to the mortuary and baked with Hilda all day yesterday.”

“Her annual Christmas cookie boxes?” Roz asked hopefully.

“There is one with your name on it,” Sabrina confirmed. “With extra molasses cookies.”

“You’re the best, ‘Brina. Truly.” Roz held her wine glass up to her in a salute and Sabrina laughed. Hilda’s cookie boxes for the neighbors were infamous. “And have you heard from…”

This, Sabrina thought, was what Roz truly wanted to talk about.

“No,” she sighed. There was no missing the sadness that passed through her. “I doubt I will. He’s been gone a month now and it’s been radio silence.”

Nick hadn’t so much as posted anything to social media. Not that she had checked periodically. She had no idea that he and Ambrose had exchanged a few texts in the last couple of weeks.

“I’m sorry, Sabrina,” Roz offered. “I know you really cared about him.”

“I still do,” Sabrina admitted. “But he’s got a lot of baggage and as much as it pains me to say it, he didn’t want me to be there to help him with it.” She took a sip of her wine, but she couldn’t ignore the pang of guilt she felt as she thought about Nick’s alcoholism. She was a social drinker, at best. She wouldn’t have a problem giving up the booze if it meant being with Nick, but she reasoned that choice didn’t need to be made now. They weren’t together. She was free to drink her wine. “I can only hope he works things out for himself.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Roz prodded. She was unclear about what happened between her friend and the bartender. Things seemed okay – and then they weren’t.

“Not really,” Sabrina shook her head. “I know everyone wants to know why we broke up, but it’s not my story to tell. Nick didn’t do anything wrong.” She took another sip of her wine. He really hadn’t done anything wrong. He hadn’t told her about his past and she supposed it was a lie by omission, but she also couldn’t blame him for not laying it all out there, not when there was just so much of it and it was all so painful. If the roles were reversed, she probably would have tried to keep things to herself too. “Honestly? I think this would be easier if he had.”

If Nick had cheated or been a jerk, she thought their breakup would have hurt less. Instead, it was simply the fact that he needed time and space and wasn’t ready for a relationship.

“Is he coming back for the spring semester?” Roz asked.

“I think so,” Sabrina nodded. “That’s what his grandmother said anyway. But now that I’m not in school, I won’t exactly be running into him, will I?”

“Greendale is a small town,” Roz reminded her. “Your paths will cross sooner or later.”

Sabrina sighed. She was well aware of that fact and actively trying not to think about it. That was the one upside she had to Nick being out of town – she didn’t have the added worry of bumping into him at the grocery store or while walking down the street. When – if – he returned, that buffer would go out the window and she would have to face the guy she cared about but couldn’t be with.

“Let’s change the subject,” she decided. “It’s Christmastime and for the first time in ages, all of us are going to be together in the same place. Let’s enjoy that.”

“Okay,” Roz said with an understanding smile. She wasn’t fooled though. Sabrina was still hurting over whatever had happened between her and Nick. “No more talk about boys.”

“Cheers to that,” Sabrina agreed.

The others arrived a few minutes later. Theo and Robin entered in a boisterous fashion, Theo with a bag of treats from around the world, Robin with their camera bag so they could document the night for both their memories and their travel blog. Harvey arrived soon after with a six-pack of beer. Sabrina busied herself with the chili while he kissed Roz hello, then greeted him cordially. He returned the greeting in a similar manner, both of them making an effort to appear normal. After grazing her charcuterie board and catching up, they scooped chili into bread bowls and ate at her small kitchen table that was a bit crammed with five people.

It was what Sabrina needed. The tension between her and Harvey faded as the evening wore on. Theo and Robin kept them laughing with stories about transportation woes and language barriers. They reminisced about their high school days and ate their way through Sabrina’s dessert board and the exotic treats from Theo.

“This is so great,” Roz commented, looking around at her friends congregated now in Sabrina’s living room. “I love that we’re all together.”

“It is great,” Sabrina agreed with a fond smile. Still, she couldn’t help but notice that she was the odd one out. Roz had Harvey. Theo had Robin. She had the tea she had switched to after a second glass of wine and had already thought about how nice it would be to make a cup of hot chocolate before bed once everyone was gone. She thought she may well be on her way to ‘cat lady’ status.

“We should do this more often,” Harvey said. “Hey! What about New Year’s? What’s everyone’s plans? Roz and I are going into the city again…”

“We’re going to Edinburgh,” Theo told them.

“Hogmanay,” Robin explained. “We got a last-minute sponsorship opportunity. Just found out on a layover on our way back here. I’ve always wanted to go…”

“Hogmanay?” Harvey repeated. “What’s that?” He cracked open another beer.

“It’s three days of celebration and a lot of fireworks to welcome the new year,” Theo summed up. “It’s utter chaos. It’s going to be incredible.” He looked to Sabrina. “What about you, ‘Brina? What are your plans?”

“This,” she held out her arms to indicate her living room. “I’m getting Chinese takeout and sitting on my couch, likely with a bottle of champagne.”

“No,” Roz shook her head. “You’re coming with us to the city.”

Sabrina couldn’t think of anything she wanted to do less than be a third wheel to her ex-fiancé and his new girlfriend who happened to be her best friend.

“Been there, done that,” she dismissed. “I’m sticking right here in Greendale, in my cottage, eating egg rolls and lo mein.”

“Come with us,” Theo pitched. “You know I’ve always wanted you to join one of our trips…” Sabrina smiled at him.

“As amazing as that sounds, I don’t have a passport,” she reminded him. “Christmas is in two days and you guys leave in…?”

“Five,” Robin supplied, realizing Sabrina was right. There was no way they could pull off a passport in such a short time and during the holidays at that. “But celebrating in your living room all alone? That’s…”

“Sad,” Theo finished with Robin trailed off. “At least go to the town celebration…” Sabrina smiled at her friends’ obvious concern about her being lonely.

“I’m really okay with my plans,” she told them, meaning it. “I need lowkey this year. Now, enough about me. Tell us about this Scotland trip.”

Theo and Robin were off, giving a detailed overview of their itinerary and bickering with one another over aspects of it. When Roz tried to stifle a yawn, Sabrina realized it was late and it was time to start politely signaling it was time for the party to wrap up. It was another trick she had learned from Hilda.

“Let me take your plates,” she said, expertly stacking their long empty dessert plates. She gathered them quickly. Roz made to move to help, but Harvey put a hand on her to stop her. Sabrina pretended not to see the meaningful look that passed between them.

“I’ll help,” Harvey said, reaching for the dishes nearest him.

“You don’t…”

“I insist,” Harvey cut her off gently. Sabrina’s suspicions rose, but she didn’t say anything. Harvey followed her into the kitchen. Once they were out of earshot of the others, Sabrina turned to him.

“You’re up to something.”

Harvey tried to look surprised.

“What? No…”

“Harvey Kinkle, you never offered to helped clean up when we were together. I always had to ask or make a pointed remark to get you to so much as collect the beer cans. And I saw that look between you and Roz. You’re up to something.”

Harvey sighed. He had never been able to get anything past Sabrina.

“I wanted a minute alone with you,” he confessed. “There are a few things I want to say.”

“I’m listening…”

Harvey gave a tentative smile.

“First, thank you for having me over tonight. I know things have been – weird.”

“I never wanted to lose you as my friend, Harvey,” Sabrina reminded him. “I knew it would be a while before we could be friends again, but I hope this is a start.”

“It is,” he confirmed with a nod. “We’re friends, Sabrina. Always will be.” They traded another smile. “I also wanted to say I’m sorry about you and the bartender.” His sympathy was genuine. Some of the residual tension between them fell away. “You seemed pretty happy with him.”

“Things happen,” Sabrina shrugged a shoulder, not willing to share too much with him about her and Nick. “Breaking up sucks, but it was ultimately the only option.”

Not that that made it any easier.

“Still, I’m sorry,” Harvey repeated. He shoved his hands in his pockets and Sabrina knew whatever he really wanted to talk to her about was about to be revealed. “And I wanted to be the one to tell you…” He rocked back on his heels. “I applied to art school.” Sabrina’s eyes widened in surprise. He couldn’t help but smile proudly. “I got in. I start in a few weeks.”

“Harvey!” She reached to hug him. “That’s incredible! Congratulations!”

“Thanks, ‘Brina,” he hugged her back. “I’m pretty excited, honestly.”

“Tell me everything,” she requested. “What school are you going to?”

“The University of Hartford,” he shared. “I’m going to start off commuting, but that’s quite a drive several times a week, so I’m going to look for an apartment there for the weekdays and head back to Greendale to see Roz and my dad on weekends.” He smiled at her. “You actually inspired me, ‘Brina.”

“Me?” Sabrina repeated. “The law school drop out?” She left out how she had given up going to a school outside of Greendale to stay close to him. That didn’t seem like helpful information in the moment.

“I was pretty pissed off at you for ending our engagement,” he told her. “But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, I started to see what you saw. We both put our lives on hold to be here in Greendale. We both tried to make something work that was never meant to for far too long.”

Sabrina frowned.

“Wait. You didn’t apply to art school during our senior year because of – me?”

“You, my dad… I wasn’t ready to venture out of the safety of Greendale back then,” Harvey confessed. “But I am now. I’ve realized I can’t sacrifice my dreams because of my dad or even for a girlfriend. I owe you a thank you for that.” He chanced another smile. “Your whole quitting law school thing was pretty inspiring too. I always wondered if your heart was really in it.”

“I was apparently the last one to know I didn’t want to be a lawyer,” Sabrina said dryly.

“You got there in the end,” Harvey reminded her. “Anyway, I wanted to be the one to tell you about school and to say thank you for inspiring me to want more.”

“I’m proud of you, Harvey,” Sabrina said. “You’re going to do amazing work.” She smiled at him. “I want a signed piece when you’re a big, famous artist.”

“I can work that out,” he assured her. He considered her for a moment. “You know, the offer for you to join Roz and I for New Year’s Eve in the city still stands…” Sabrina shook her head.

“Thank you, Harvey, but not this year.” She left it at that, but they both understood it would be awkward for her. “I’ll be okay here.”

“Next year is going to be a lot better for you,” Harvey predicted. “For both of us.”

“We can only hope,” Sabrina said, not quite ready to believe it. Her slow cooker caught her eye. “Want to take the rest of the chili home?”

“I mean, if you want to keep it for leftovers…” Sabrina laughed then. She knew Harvey had always loved her chili.

“It’s all yours,” she said. “I’ll put it in a container for you if you go get the rest of the dishes from the living room.” Harvey saluted his agreement and left the room.

When he was gone, Sabrina leaned against the counter for a moment and exhaled. Harvey’s admission had caught her by surprise, but she was happy for him. His step forward somehow felt like a step forward for herself, too. It was like the last piece of her baggage with Harvey that she didn’t know she was carrying had been emptied and she was truly free of those ties now.

There was a lot about her life that hadn’t gone as planned. If things had stayed as they were when the year began, she would have been Harvey’s wife, one semester away from finishing law school, hosting their friends at their cramped apartment. Roz would have been the odd one out or maybe she would have found someone and introduced them to their group.

But she thought it might be okay that things hadn’t gone as originally planned for any of them, save for maybe Theo and Robin who had managed to become the talk of the travel blogging world.

Because somehow, things always worked themselves out exactly how they were supposed to.

Her turn for things to shake out in her favor had to be just around the corner.

* * *

Nick sat in the window seat of the bedroom he stayed in whenever he visited his grandmother. He felt more at home at his parents’ house these days, but Amalia’s had a view of Lake Michigan and despite the time he was spending in his childhood home, he wasn’t ready to spend the night alone there. From his current vantage point, he could see Christmas lights twinkling, the moon reflecting off the lake.

It was Christmas Eve and he felt incredibly lonely.

He had promised his grandmother he would attend Midnight Mass with her even though religion wasn’t an area he saw himself as an expert in outside of the academic aspect of it. There was still a couple of hours to go, however, and she was down the street at a friend’s party. She had invited him, but he had begged out, in no mood to spend his evening with his grandmother’s friends who would ask him all kinds of questions about school and his career, maybe even try to set him up with their granddaughters.

This wasn’t his first Christmas without his parents. Last year, his mother’s death had been fresh and his father surviving as a vegetable in a rehab center. He had spent both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day by his father’s side, watching _A Christmas Story_ on loop, just because it was on. His father had died less than two months later.

This Christmas felt different.

Worse.

Lonelier.

He absentmindedly opened his phone and went to Instagram. He didn’t post much, but he had found himself checking it more often lately, hoping for glimpses of life in Greendale. He could count on Prudence and her sisters to post something almost daily. Dorcas, it seemed, had something she deemed story-worthy nearly every hour. Ambrose posted every few days, but Sabrina, the only one he cared about, had only posted twice in the entire time he had been gone. A snapshot of her and Roz out for dinner and photos of her with her students from the recital.

It seemed the fates were smiling down on him today.

The first image to greet his eyes was one of Sabrina with her aunts, Cee, and Ambrose gathered in front of the towering Christmas tree in the mortuary entryway, uploaded just thirty minutes ago. _From us to you!_ she captioned it with a series of holiday-themed emojis.

She looked beautiful in a long sleeve green dress that hugged her in all the right places, her black headband in place, her lips red. Her family was festive around her, but Nick didn’t have eyes for any of them, just the girl that filled his thoughts, that he saw in his dreams. She wasn’t always dead now, but it was almost worse. She cried in them as she asked him not to leave.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Before he could tell himself it was a bad idea, he had called her.

It rang once. Twice. Three times. He was engaging in an internal struggle over whether he would leave a message when the ringing stopped.

“Hello?”

Her soft questioning voice made him shut his eyes in both relief and pain.

“Sabrina.”

Her name sounded like a lifeline to his own ears.

“Nick?”

It felt like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He had a thousand things he wanted to say, no idea where to start. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to ask for another chance. He wanted to tell her what the last couple years of his life had been like. He wanted to tell her he loved her. Because he was utterly certain of that now.

“Nick?” she repeated after several long moments of silence. She could hear him breathing over the line. She sighed after another beat of silence passed. “If you aren’t going to talk…”

“I miss you,” he breathed, letting the first words that came to mind escape before she hung up.

Sabrina’s breath caught in her chest. She had been shocked to see his name pop up on her screen but his declaration rendered her speechless.

“I miss you,” he repeated, his words steadier. “I’m sitting in my bedroom at my grandma’s and I just… miss you.”

Sabrina wanted to tell him she missed him too, but she couldn’t. She needed to know why he was calling before she dared to get her hopes up.

“Are you okay?” she asked tentatively.

“I’m better than I’ve been in a while,” he answered honestly. “I signed the papers and it was a weight lifted off my shoulders.” Another beat of silence. “What about you? How are you?”

“I’m okay,” she answered. “I’m at my aunts’ tonight.” She pursed her lips, remembering he didn’t know she had moved. “I moved into my own place, but I wanted to wake up here on Christmas.”

“I’m going to Mass with Grandma in a bit,” he replied, grateful for the chance to just _talk_ to her. “I haven’t exactly found religion in the last month, but it will make her happy.”

A full minute of silence lapsed between them. It was somehow enough and nowhere close to it for them to listen to the other breathe through the phone. It was a connection that had both fiercely missed.

“I sent flowers,” Nick admitted in a quiet voice. “I couldn’t figure out the right thing to say on the card while I was on the phone with the florist so I ended up asking her to just deliver them without the card.”

“You sent the roses?” Sabrina asked in surprise.

“I know people get flowers after recitals. Even if you weren’t dancing on stage, some of those numbers were still your dances. I wanted to make sure you got flowers like your students.”

“How did you know about the recital?” Sabrina asked. Another thought occurred to her. “How did you know where I live now?”

“Ambrose,” Nick answered. From his vantage point, he could see a couple bundled up and walking along the lake’s shore. He was sure they were freezing, but there was something romantic about the scene all the same. “I finally replied to his texts.”

More silence followed as Sabrina digested the fact that Nick had sent her flowers, that he had been talking to Ambrose about her. That he had called in the first place. He simply relished in the connection to her. Sabrina was tired from the day’s festivities, but she didn’t want to hang up. She wanted to stay right there, cross legged in the middle of her bed, connected to Nick over the phone. He felt the same way on his end of the phone.

“It’s late there,” Nick realized a few beats later. “It’s late here, and you’re an hour ahead of me. I probably woke you up…”

“You didn’t,” she assured him. “I had just come upstairs a few minutes before you called after helping the aunts clean up from our Christmas Eve party.” She bit her lip for a moment and decided to be truthful. “It’s nice to hear from you.”

“I’ve missed your voice,” Nick replied. On his side of the phone, he bit his own lip, a habit he didn’t realize he had picked up from her. “I miss everything about you.” He took a deep breath and drew on the courage his grandmother seemed to think he had in spades. “When I get back to Greendale in a couple of weeks, could we talk? Please?”

Sabrina wanted to tell him they should talk right now, right then and there. She wanted to offer to get on the next flight to Chicago, Christmas or not. She wanted to ask him to get on the first flight back to Greendale.

She didn’t ask any of those things.

“Okay,” she agreed.

“Okay,” he repeated. “I should let you go.” It was the last thing he wanted to do. “It’s late and I should change before its time to leave.”

“Thank you for the flowers, Nick.”

“You deserved them.” She deserved dozens and dozens of roses.

“Merry Christmas, Nick.”

“Merry Christmas, Sabrina.”

In Chicago, Nick hung up and let out a long exhale. It was progress. Minimal, but progress all the same. He vowed to continue to progress forward, to stop avoiding talking about the hard things, to let people in. He promised himself he would lay everything out for Sabrina when he was back in Greendale and allow her to decide if she let him back into her life.

If she did, he vowed to introduce her as his girlfriend to anyone who would listen. He would shout it from the rooftops of Greendale if that’s what it took to make things right.

He pushed himself out of the window seat to change for Mass. He was more of a cynic these days, but those few minutes on the phone with Sabrina nearly had him convinced there was such a thing as a Christmas miracle, that perhaps there really was something to the magic of the season people seemed to talk about so much this time of the year.

In Greendale, Sabrina got under her blankets and snuggled into the pillows. Nick Scratch’s name on her phone was the last thing she had expected for the night. It had only been trumped by his ‘I miss you’ confession.

And he had sent her the roses.

That had to mean something.

Maybe, she thought as she drifted off to sleep, there was hope for the New Year after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mysterious roses. A Fight Club reunion and a nice little bow tied on Sabrina's relationship with Harvey. And Nick, calling up his girl and confessing - blurting out - that he misses her. 
> 
> Next chapter, Nick is back in Greendale... 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on this one! I truly appreciate all of you so so much. <3
> 
> Also, I LOVE a good charcuterie board... If you're not following @AintTooProudToMeg on Instagram, you're missing out.


	21. Back to December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone up for a Nabrina reunion? 
> 
> Trigger warning: Lots of talk about drugs, alcohol, addiction, overdosing, and loss below.

_I'm so glad you made time to see me_  
_How's life, tell me how's your family?_  
_I haven't seen them in a while_  
_You've been good, busier then ever_  
_We small talk, work and the weather_  
_Your guard is up and I know why_

Nick sat on his couch, hands on his knees, eyes on his phone which sat menacingly on the coffee table before him, taunting him to pick it up. He pursed his lips and bounced his left knee. He tapped his fingers against his kneecaps. He blew out a breath and bounced his right knee.

“I can do this,” he said to no one. “Just pick up the phone.”

Still, he eyed it as though it were going to bite him.

He tapped his knees twice. His left hand darted out and snatched the phone off the coffee table. It felt heavy in his hand. He exhaled again and lifted his phone. It recognized his face and unlocked. He pursed his lips again as he went to his recent call log and then found the number he wanted. He tapped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear.

It rang once. Twice.

Nick held his breath.

“Hello?”

“Sabrina,” he sighed in relief. “Hi.”

“Nick.” She sounded surprised. “Hi.”

“How…” Nick paused and reset. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” she answered. “I just had a late lunch with Theo and Robin before they fly out tonight.”

“Where are they going this time?” Nick wondered. He had yet to meet the elusive Theo and found he really wanted to. He thought he might like the guy.

“Edinburgh. They’ve got some sponsored trip to celebrate New Year.”

“Hogmanay,” Nick said knowingly.

“Yep,” Sabrina confirmed.

“Edinburgh is a cool city,” he said. “Lots of history.”

A few beats of silence passed between them.

“Is there – a reason – you called?” Sabrina asked carefully. She listened to Nick take a deep breath.

“I’m back in Greendale,” he started.

“Already?” Sabrina said before he could continue. “I thought you weren’t coming back until right before the semester starts…” She had thought Nick would be gone at least another week.

“I was ready to come back,” he said by way of explanation. He braced himself. “I was calling to see if maybe you would… Have coffee with me sometime soon. I’d like a chance to tell you my version of events. If you’re willing to listen, of course.”

There was another few beats of silence. Nick started to scramble, thinking fast for any way to convince her to meet up with him. He didn’t exactly want to show up at her house or the mortuary unannounced, but he was willing to do it if it came down to it.

“I’d like that,” she said just as he opened his mouth to say something, anything. Her voice was soft, careful.

“Good,” Nick breathed out as relief washed over him. “The café on campus? You name the date and time. I’ll be there.” He would move heaven and hell to make sure of it.

“What about tomorrow?” she asked. “Three o’clock?”

“Tomorrow at three,” Nick agreed. “Thank you, Sabrina. It means a lot to me that you’re willing to talk.”

“I’ve always been willing to talk,” she reminded him. There was no malice in her tone, but Nick cringed at her words all the same.

“I know,” he said. He leaned back into his cushions. “I’m a little late to the party, but I hope I can make up for it.”

“Tomorrow,” Sabrina said.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed. He didn’t want to hang up yet. “How was Christmas.”

“It was good,” she said. “Low key. Ambrose… Made a fool of himself.”

“Ambrose got drunk,” Nick deciphered. “It’s okay, Sabrina. You can say things like that to me. It won’t set me off.”

“Okay,” she replied. She knew, if things were going to work out between them, that she would have to learn how to be supportive of Nick, how to help him with his addiction in the way he needed her to, not the way she thought she should. “What about you? How was your Christmas?”

“Quiet,” he told her. “Grandma made a huge Christmas breakfast and an even better Christmas dinner. I spent most of the day reading, watched a documentary on the earliest known Christmas celebrations.”

Sabrina’s lips quirked upward in a smile on her end of the phone.

“That sound pretty par for the course for one Nicholas Scratch,” she said.

“I didn’t hate it,” he admitted.

“I have to go,” she told him and he thought she sounded a little sorry about it. “I’m meeting Roz at the movie theater. We’re going to see some action movie she’s excited about. I’m here and she’s walking towards me.”

“Okay,” Nick agreed. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Sabrina confirmed. “I’m glad you called, Nick.”

“Me too,” he said. “Go have fun with Roz.”

He hung up and took another big breath.

He had done it.

He had picked up his phone, called Sabrina, and asked if they could talk. She had said yes. Tomorrow, he would lay his past on the line for her. He would ask her if she would be willing to give him another choice.

He reached for the bottle of Gatorade he had been sipping on most of the evening and took a swig while he used his other hand to scroll Instagram. Sabrina had posted a photo to her story of her with Theo and Robin, each with one of Cee’s famous milkshakes.

“Tomorrow,” he said, holding his thumb on the screen to keep the photo from passing by once its time was up, simply wanting to take in her smiling face a few moments more. “I’m going to make this right.”

* * *

Sabrina wasn’t the nervous type. She was generally too brave for her own good. She had never experienced stage fright, never had a second thought about barging into the office of Blackwood or Zelda or one of her teachers to make a demand or inform them that they were wrong. But as she approached the coffee shop door, she was nervous. Her stomach flipped and she thought there might even be a slight tremble in her hands. She pulled open the door and entered with both hope and fear.

Nick was already there.

His head swiveled to the door when it opened. His features lit up and then settled into a neutral expression when he saw her. He sat at a small table in the window, his hands wrapped around a coffee mug. He looked as nervous as she felt. He gave her a small nod of his head in greeting. She replied with a hint of smile, then tilted her head towards the counter to indicate she was going to order. He responded with another single nod of his head.

The coffee shop was next to empty with campus devoid of students for winter break. She ordered a coffee and a scone and dutifully avoided looking Nick’s way while she waited, taking the time to steel herself for the conversation they were about to have. It felt like hours instead of minutes before she made her way to him. He stood in greeting as she approached.

“Hi,” he managed.

“Hi,” she replied. She placed her coffee and scone on the table. They stood for a moment, the table between them, both debating on if they should reach for a hug, a handshake, something, both wanting to as much as they wondered if they should. Instead, they lowered themselves to their respective chairs at the same time.

“Thank you for meeting me.” Nick’s lips turned up into a faint smile as he took her in. Both of them were dressed down, casual. But she was utterly beautiful with no makeup, jeans, and a solid black turtleneck, her headband in place. He wanted to tell her as much, but he felt that might be pushing his luck. “It’s good to see you,” he said instead.

“I wasn’t expecting you so soon,” she replied, taking him in. In jeans and a navy thermal shirt, his hair a little longer and a lot messier than he usually wore it, he looked like he had stepped out of the pages of a magazine all the same.

“I decided it was time to come back.”

He had intended to stay in Chicago through the end of the year and return to Greendale a couple of days after New Year’s, just before the semester started. But once Christmas was behind him, he had realized he didn’t need to be in Chicago. He needed to be in Greendale. One part of his life had been, perhaps not resolved, but mended. The girl in front of him was his priority now. And so, a couple of days after Christmas, he had kissed his grandmother’s cheek and gotten into Michael’s car bound for the airport..

“Welcome back?” She said it as a question, not sure if he was glad to be back or not.

“It’s been good to be in my own bed these last couple of nights.” He had slept okay, too. He thought Sabrina’s scent might still somehow be on his sheets. “It’s quiet around here though. Quieter than I remember, even though I’ve been in Chicago these last six weeks or so.”

“It’s always a bit quieter here during the week between Christmas and New Year,” Sabrina explained. “People settle into their homes and enjoy the excuse to slow down.”

“I missed it,” Nick admitted. He looked her in the eye and felt brave in the moment. “I miss you.”

He watched Sabrina absorb his words. Her chest rose and fell as she took a breath.

“I miss you,” she admitted in a more timid tone. “But I think we have a lot to talk about before anything can be done about that.”

Nick nodded his agreement. She was guarded. While he sat there ready, for the first time, to bare his soul, she had come with a shield, ready to guard her heart if things didn’t go well. He realized then that the coffee shop wasn’t the right setting for this conversation. Even if it was next to empty, they needed to be alone.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” he proposed. “Take a walk? I’ll get us to-go cups for our coffees. I know it’s cold out but…”

“Let’s take a walk,” Sabrina agreed, her thoughts the same as his. She didn’t want to have this conversation with baristas hovering in the background. She waited while he took their coffees to the counter for to go cups and requested a bag for her scone.

“I had them top them off,” he reported as he passed her a cup.

“Thank you,” she gave him a smile. He waited while she wrapped her scone and placed it in her bag. Once they were bundled up, they stepped out onto the street and set off in the direction of campus, content to wander the grounds together. “So…,” she ventured, “let’s talk.”

Nick took a deep breath.

This was his moment.

He could do this.

He had to do this.

“I know my grandmother told you a lot about what I’ve been through,” he began, “but I want to tell you my perspective.” Sabrina nodded her agreement. Nick took yet another deep breath, once more summoning the courage his grandmother liked to talk about. “I’ve never really talked about all of this outside of therapists. It’s going to be hard for me, so please, Sabrina, be patient with me?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “I’m here to listen, Nick. To whatever you want to tell me.”

“You would have listened from the beginning,” he acknowledged. “I’m sorry it took me this long and that we had to go through so much for me to get to a place where I can talk to you.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” Sabrina offered. “You had to be ready to share in your own time.”

Nick wondered at her grace. She was there, willing to hear him out, willing to let him share his story with her, despite how he had pushed her away, kept her at arm’s length, not even been able to call her his girlfriend in public. If he got to hold her hand again, he would never let it go.

“Okay,” he nodded to himself. “I’ll start at the beginning.” He switched the coffee cup to his opposite hand, the one closest to Sabrina, to keep himself from reaching for her hand. He wanted to hold it, but he didn’t think right now was the moment. “I started drinking in undergrad. Nothing extreme, just the usual frat party scene. I would get blackout drunk on occasion, but it wasn’t a problem. I was just like any other undergrad experimenting with alcohol for the first time. I met Dorian at a local bar, I think I already told you that?”

“You did,” Sabrina confirmed, remembering him sharing that bit of information early into their relationship.

“He was going through some weird nomadic phase when I met him. He left a friend in charge of the Gray Room here and wandered the country for a couple of years. He landed a short-lived gig managing the bar I frequented near campus where he let me and my friends drink underage without asking questions. One night, the bar was busy, and I was pretty lit. It was taking too long to get a drink, so I went behind the counter and made one myself. Next thing I knew, I was making drinks for others and long story short, instead of kicking me out, Dorian asked me if I was 21 – I was by then, barely – and then hired me.

“I didn’t need the money – my parents made sure of that, they wanted me to focus on school – but I liked it. I liked earning my own money, making drinks, and honestly, it helped me meet people to go home with that night.” He blushed a bit at the confession, but Sabrina didn’t flinch. She knew he slept around before he met her. “I decided to take a year off between my undergrad and going to Oxford. I started bartending around Chicago, went to bartending school, got really good at making artisanal cocktails. When I left for Oxford, Dorian hooked me up with a contact he had there, and I started tending at a pub.

“That’s where I met the cliched wrong crowd. Dorian’s friend, my boss, warned me, but I was young and dumb and didn’t listen. I loved traveling around Europe, but what started off as me doing it because I’m a weird history nerd that wanted to see the places I had read about turned into me going to places where parties raged, alcohol flowed, and drugs were plentiful. I had always smoked pot on and off – picked that up in high school – but I had my first snort of cocaine at a club in Ibiza.”

He heard Sabrina exhale as she absorbed the information. He tightened his grip around his coffee. She had hers held between both of her gloved hands. There was nothing for him to do but continue.

“It spiraled from there. I don’t know how in the hell I managed to pull off doing well in school. I was a mess. I was high more often than not, drunk most of the time. I kept tending bar, but I would be drunk and high by the end of my shift. My parents figured out what was going on and they tried to intervene. It got ugly. My dad showed up unannounced – apparently that’s a thing my family does – and we had it out. I ended up promising him I would do better, but as soon as he left, I was right back in it. Him and mom had to practically drag me back to Chicago after graduation.

“That’s where the worst of it happened.” He kicked at a path as they walked along, remembering. “I pretty much got off the plane at O’Hare and went in search of a dealer. I found one, found a new group of so called friends. I was reckless in Europe, but I was dangerous in Chicago.”

Sabrina pursed her lips as she absorbed his words. She glanced at him, but his focus was straight ahead as he revisited memories of the choices that had tipped his life on its ear.

“I didn’t have limits. I would try anything, do anything. I could roll on coke for days at a time. I would go on total benders, black out for days at a time. Someone would hand me a pill and I would take it, no questions asked. I would chase it with liquor and never consider the consequences.”

“You could have died,” Sabrina couldn’t help but say. She didn’t know a lot about addiction, but she did know that mixing alcohol and drugs wasn’t wise.

“I know,” Nick said solemnly. “And I nearly did. I’m getting to that.”

“The overdoses,” she remembered. She held her coffee a little tighter, willing it to warm the chill that went through her at the thought of a world without Nick in it. She felt Nick’s eyes on her, considering her.

“You sure you want to hear this?” he wondered.

“I’m sure,” she nodded, eyes on his. He held her gaze for a moment longer and only saw sincerity in them. It bolstered him to keep going.

“My parents did everything they could,” he told her. “They cut off access to my trust fund, but I didn’t care. Where there’s a will, there’s a way, and I was a damned good bartender. I bartended at high end places. I would make a couple of hundred in tips on a good night. I didn’t worry about spending money on things like food or rent. I just needed a fix. I would sleep on floors, in my car… My life existed of drugs and drinking and nothing else.”

Another shiver went through Sabrina that had nothing to do with the cold winter air. She had a hard time imagining that version of Nick.

“I OD’d on cocaine the first time.” Sabrina cringed. “I was fortunate enough to be with people that at least cared enough to drop me at a hospital and speed away. My parents were called and there was an intervention. I did the whole song and dance about promising to get sober and the hospital sent me home with Mom and Dad after a couple of days’ stay. That arrangement lasted about two weeks before I was right back in it.

“Things were really bad with my parents. I hated them, Sabrina. I can’t tell you why. They were only ever the best parents in the world to me. They gave me everything I could have ever wanted, did everything they could to help me. But I absolutely hated them. The more they tried to get through to me, the worse I got. Cocaine turned into opioids. I don’t think I was sober more than a couple of hours a day for months straight.”

“Nick…” Sabrina breathed. Nick stopped and so did she. He turned to her with an earnest expression.

“I know this is hard to hear,” he acknowledged. “I know the version of me you know seems like a completely different person and that it’s probably hard to reconcile the two.” Sabrina nodded her confirmation. “But that is who I was, Sabrina, for better or worse. I’m not proud of it and if I could blot out that part of my life, I would. But I can’t.”

“It is hard for me to hear,” Sabrina agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know, Nick.”

“Okay,” he nodded. He resumed walking without saying more. She fell in step beside him once more.

“Your grandmother said here was a second overdose,” she prompted after a few moments of quiet.

“That one was bad.” There was a change to Nick’s tone, one that told Sabrina it was something he still struggled with. “I OD’d on opioids in my bathroom at my parents. It was sheer luck that my dad found me.” Nick kicked at the ground again as he remembered. “They had bought Narcan ‘just in case’ and they had to use it.” Nick swallowed down a ball of emotions. “My dad saved my life.”

Sabrina saw the tears Nick quickly blinked away. She reached out and squeezed his bicep in a show of silent support because she couldn’t stand to see him hurting any long. He was surprised when she left her hand there.

“I kind of gave up after that,” he confessed as they walked. “I stopped fighting and admitted I needed help. My parents had Michael file an emergency injunction to make them my guardians. I lost all say over myself.”

Sabrina felt a tremble run through him. Her heart broke for him as he did his best to dig deep and share hard things with her.

“If this is too much right now, we can stop,” she offered. “We can talk some more another day…”

“No,” Nick shook his head. “It’s easier for me to just say it all now.” He didn’t want to have to summon the courage for part two of this conversation. He wanted to lay it all on the table and let her decide what to do with it all.

“Okay,” Sabrina agreed. “If you’re sure.” He gave her a grateful sort of smile before continuing. It was enough that she had offered.

“Rehab did wonders for me. It was really hard at first. I had to undergo a medical detox and it was horrible, Sabrina. My whole body hurt. I have never felt physical pain like that, and I hope I never do again. I hallucinated. My moods swung. I was angry, then I was sad, then I was deliriously happy… It was awful. In some ways it was easier than the treatment itself though. Once I was detoxed and up to moving into treatment, I spent every day digging into my psyche, unraveling myself, figuring out why I did the things I did.

“That’s something people don’t talk about when they refer to rehab stints.” He sounded thoughtful now. “They don’t talk about how damned hard it is, how you’re ripped open day after day after day. You meet your worst demons, face down your worst thoughts about yourself. By the time you return to your small, plain room where the mattress is too thin and the overhead florescent light too bright, you’re too exhausted to even sleep. I asked for a lamp a couple of weeks in, thinking it might help, maybe I could read, but they said no. I later figured out we weren’t allowed things like lamps – people might use the electrical cord to strangle themselves.”

Sabrina’s eyes watered. She fought back her tears. She didn’t want them to fall, not in front of Nick. She wanted to be strong for him, show him she could accept what came with him.

“When you do finally fall asleep, it’s not for long, because the nightmares still come. You toss and turn and then it’s six o’clock and time to wake up to start the day. Everything is scheduled down to the hour. Even your free time is scheduled. Routine, they would say, was the key to establishing healthy patterns. The only good thing is that you always knew what was coming.

“But I got better,” he continued. “I repaired my relationship with my parents, and I am so grateful for that. If their accident had happened with us still at odds…” Nick shook his head. It was something he couldn’t think about. “I wouldn’t be here, Sabrina. I’m sure of that. I barely made it through their deaths sober and knowing we were in a good place. I wouldn’t have made it if I were still in the midst of drugs and alcohol and things were still as bad as they were between us. That I could have ever treated my parents the way I did is one of the biggest regrets of my life.”

“I didn’t realize your dad lived for a while after the accident,” Sabrina chanced. “When you told me they died, you just said ‘they died in a car accident a little over a year ago.’”

“My dad died that day,” Nick said with certainty. “Not physically, but in every way that mattered. It might sound morbid, but I’m grateful I was there with each of them when they took their final breaths. They did so much for me. They fought for me. Holding their hands while they faded away… It was the very least I could do.”

A tear rolled down Sabrina’s cheek. Nick couldn’t take it.

“Hey, don’t do that.” He stopped them and reached out to flick her tear away with his thumb. “You’re too beautiful to cry.”

Sabrina resisted the urge to lean into his touch.

“I don’t think its morbid,” she told him. “I think it’s beautiful.”

He brushed his thumb along her cheek again but didn’t say anything further. They resumed walking again and she returned her hand to his bicep. The gesture gave him both comfort and a surge of hope that things were going to work out between them.

“I struggled with a lot of guilt after their deaths,” he shared. “It wasn’t rational, but it was just so ironic, that a drunk driver cost my parents their lives when they had fought so hard to save me from the same fate. It could have been me that took away someone’s family. And then I told myself that if they hadn’t been visiting me, it wouldn’t have happened. They would have been at home in Chicago, not on the same road as that drunk driver. If there was a way to blame myself, I found it.”

“Your grandma said you were supposed to get out of rehab a couple of weeks later, but that she went and got you herself after their accident,” Sabrina mentioned, thinking about how things must have been for Nick in those early days post rehab. “I imagine there was a plan for you to transition out, but then things happened abruptly…”

“Exactly,” Nick nodded. “Grandma is sharp though, and she had Michael help her. They managed to get me into counseling pretty quickly. I don’t really remember how, just that I found myself in a therapist’s office a few days after my mom died. It probably prevented me from going off the rails again. I had only been sober for a few months at that point. It’s easier to relapse in the beginning. I did relapse after Dad died.”

“You had been through a lot,” Sabrina offered. “Not that that makes it okay, but it does make it understandable.”

“I suppose,” Nick nodded although she could tell he was simply humoring her. “I’m not proud though. And I want to be clear, Sabrina, that I haven’t touched drugs since that second OD. I never liked how they made me feel. I just hated how I felt coming off of them even more, so I kept doing them. It’s alcohol that’s my kryptonite. Something about the burn of whiskey triggers something in me and I start spiraling.”

“Then why work in a bar?” Sabrina couldn’t help but ask. “You were surrounded by it, Nick… And at Dorian’s, no less. I know what happens in his back rooms.”

It sounded like a recipe for disaster to her, for someone who was an alcoholic and an addict to work in a bar, let alone one known for debauchery.

“I wanted to stay busy,” Nick explained. “After my dad died, I relapsed. It was short-lived, but I did. At the time, I didn’t have a lot going on in my life. I was carrying around a lot of guilt about my parents dying. I had put off my doctorate for a year. I didn’t really have friends, given that I had alienated most of my childhood friends and I was avoiding the people I had fallen in with after leaving Oxford. I was spending a lot of time alone and by being alone, I was getting in my head which would only lead me back to the bottle. I started sleeping around, just so I didn’t have to be alone all the time.”

Sabrina cringed again, but because she could practically feel Nick’s loneliness as he spoke, not because of the thought of him with someone else. Nick pushed on.

“I worked it out in my mind – and in spite of what my therapist was trying to tell me – that if I had a full schedule, I wouldn’t have time to mess up. Kind of like in rehab, when everything was scheduled for me. So, when I made the move to Greendale, I asked Dorian for a job. If I wasn’t at school or studying, I was bartending. I slept around to fill some of the nighttime hours. But then I met you.”

He gave her a tentative soft smile that she returned.

“I’ve been struggling with a lot of guilt,” he told her, growing serious once more. “When my parents died, they were still my guardians. All of their assets were left to me, but given that I was under their power, I had to go through a lot to prove I was capable of taking control. Therapy, sobriety checks. I did all of that and the legal system eventually deemed me fit to take care of myself again. But I had to sign those documents to take control of their assets and that messed with something in my head.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” Sabrina said again, wishing Nick could see that he needed to give himself some grace. “What you’ve been through would mess with anyone’s head.”

“As the deadline for when I had to sign approached, I got more and more unsettled,” Nick told her by way of explanation. Sabrina nodded. Looking back, she could see how he was slowly unraveling as the days passed. She had tried so hard not to push, but she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she should have pushed harder. She didn’t think it would have mattered in the end. They would have always come to this point. “I had also found myself in a relationship and I was terrified. I was torn, constantly, between wanting to keep up the charade of being the guy you thought I was and letting you know exactly what you were dealing with.”

“Who did you think I wanted you to be?” Sabrina questioned.

“You seemed to see me as this strong, stable guy,” Nick told her. “You called me ‘boyfriend material.’ I wanted to be that for you. I really did. You knew there was stuff going on with me, but I just couldn’t bring myself to open up to you. I thought it would change your opinion of me. But I also thought you might pity me, and that was the last thing I wanted. I’ve had enough of that.”

“I don’t pity you, Nick,” Sabrina shook her head. “My heart hurts for you because I care about you but I don’t pity you.” She looked up at him as they walked. “Honestly, I admire you. To have been through so much and still be here, starting your second semester of a competitive doctoral program? That takes a lot of strength. I don’t know that many people could go through what you’ve been through and come out on the other side like you have.”

“I don’t know that I’m on the other side,” Nick admitted. “I still have a hard time dealing when things get tough. I was slipping in those last days before Grandma showed up. Calling out from work, talking about how tired I was? I was barely holding on, Sabrina, all while trying to figure out how to be your boyfriend and wrestling with how I wanted to tell you everything but being terrified to do it. When I left the mortuary that day, I knew exactly what I was doing. I knowingly went to Dorian’s and started drinking. I struggle to cope. That’s something I’ll be dealing with for a long time.”

“You don’t have to cope alone, Nick,” Sabrina ventured. Nick’s hope that she would take him back grew.

“I’m learning that,” he nodded. He stopped walking again. This time, he took her coffee from her. He placed both of their cups on the ground, then grasped both of her hands in his. “I remember everything I said to you while I was drunk,” he confessed, his eyes on hers. “And I remember everything I said to you in that bathroom the next morning. I know I hurt you. Not just in that bathroom, but in the times I couldn’t introduce you as my girlfriend and in the times I wouldn’t open up to you, even if you knew there was something going on. I was scared and honestly, I’m still scared. But my life is infinitely better with you in it.”

Sabrina’s eyes watered.

“Nick…”

He squeezed her hands gently.

“I love you, Spellman.” Her eyes grew big at his steady and sure admission. “You taught me how to love. I didn’t realize I didn’t know how, at least not anymore, until you came along. I fell hard for you. I didn’t have a choice in the matter at the end of the day. Something bigger than me made sure of that. And I’m so damned glad you called off your wedding, because I don’t think an engagement ring would have stopped me from chasing after you. Maybe I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking you for another chance anyway.”

Sabrina’s eyes leaked a few tears.

“Nick…”

“Don’t answer right now,” he cut her off, even as he held her hands tighter. “I just dumped a lot on you. I want you to go home and think about it. I’m asking you to be my girlfriend. But I’m also asking you to take on my baggage and there’s a hell of a lot of it. I’m always going to be an addict and an alcoholic, Sabrina, no matter how long I’m sober. I’m going to need to go to therapy appointments every week for at least the foreseeable future, AA meetings, too, and sometimes I’m just not going to feel like talking about whatever is on my mind. But I’m better than I was and willing to be better than I am. I am asking a lot of you. I know that. So, I want you to think about what being with me would mean. And when you’re ready, when you’re sure of what you want, let me know the answer.”

Sabrina hesitated. She wanted to inform him there was nothing to think about, that of course she was going to give him another chance. She wanted to tell him she loved him, no matter what had happened in his past. But he was right. She needed to go home and sit with everything he had told her.

Not that she thought it would make a difference. She didn’t think it would. But she needed to process it all, and she thought Nick needed her to take the time, too.

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll take some time.”

“Thank you,” Nick nodded. “And thank you for meeting me, for listening.” He squeezed her hands one more time, then let go. He picked up their near empty coffees and passed hers back to her, having said all he needed to say. “Would it be okay if I walked you to your car?”

“That would be okay,” Sabrina agreed with a soft smile.

Nick returned her smile and the pair turned to walk in the direction they came.

“Want to tell me about the recital?” he asked, eager to hear her voice now that he had spent so much time talking.

For the rest of the walk, Sabrina told him about her recital and the things he had missed in Greendale while he was gone. By the time Nick tucked her away in her car with a hint of a kiss to her cheek and sent her home, he felt better than he had in weeks.

He thought she might truly be the first rays of sunshine after days of rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nick shot his shot. The ball is in Sabrina's court now... But man, Nick really went all in in the past, didn't he? Michael said it a couple updates ago - he's always been an all or nothing kind of guy, for better or worse. He's certainly all in on Sabrina... 
> 
> There are only TWO updates left which I realized tonight and I'm a little sad. Saying goodbye to this universe is going to be as hard as picking the best lyrics from "Back to December" for this update when I really wanted to use them all. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this! Love you all lots!


	22. New Year's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sabrina and Nick have ordered Chinese a few times now... Maybe that might be there 'thing' in this universe? Kind of like Academy lunches... 
> 
> And if you're not into the more graphic stuff, skip to the end when empty dinner plates get moved to the coffee table?

_Don't read the last page_   
_But I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or you're making mistakes_   
_I want your midnights_   
_But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day_

Nick was comfortable. He had spent most of the day on his couch, alternating between reading – for pleasure, for a change – and watching New Year’s Eve bowl games after using the previous day to finally unpack and organize his apartment. He had no intentions of doing anything else for the remainder of the evening, except it was approaching dinnertime and he thought he might order Chinese.

It had been two days since his talk with Sabrina and he was trying hard not to take her silence as a bad sign. He had unloaded a lot on her, and he was willing to give her the space to figure out if she wanted a relationship with him. He understood that he brought a lot of baggage to the table and whether she wanted to accept that and give him another chance had to be her choice.

But he hoped to hell she would say yes.

Soon.

He wasn’t sure how long he could wait patiently before he made a fool of himself and went in search of her answer. Sometimes it didn’t sound like a half terrible idea to show up outside of her place and hold a boombox over his head to declare his love, but he would remind himself that the tortoise won the race by being slow and steady and so he had to sit back and wait. She had waited several months for him to confide in her. He could certainly wait a few days for her to come to terms with his past and decide if she would allow him to hold her hand again.

He was completely absorbed in the game playing out on TV when his phone rang. He reached for it absentmindedly as he watched the quarterback send a pass down the field in the final minutes of the fourth quarter of a tie game.

“Idiot,” he muttered when the receiver missed the near perfectly thrown ball. He pulled his eyes away from the TV to read his phone screen.

_Sabrina._

He breath caught in his chest as he swiped his finger to answer the call in a quick manner.

“Hello?”

“Nick!”

He frowned. She sounded flustered.

“Sabrina? Are you okay?”

“Nick, there’s water spraying out of the pipes under the kitchen sink and I don’t know what to do!” she cried out. “I tried to call Ambrose, but he didn’t answer and neither did Cee…”

“There should be a valve under the sink,” he said as he sat up. “It will turn off the water.”

“I tried that knob thing,” she informed him. “It’s stuck. Won’t even budge. Nick, there’s water everywhere…”

“Okay,” he said in a calm tone, thinking fast. “I can come over and take a look…”

“Would you?” she nearly begged. “It’s just… There’s water literally everywhere… The kitchen is flooding… I don’t know what to do…”

“I’ll come,” he promised her. “Tell me how to get there? I’m not sure where Cee’s cottage is…” He listened as she quickly rambled off directions to her place. It wasn’t far away. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. Try to use a towel or something to stop it up until I can get there.”

He didn’t bother changing clothes despite the cold temperatures. He was wearing a pair of gym shorts and a long sleeve Chicago Bears shirt. He slipped on a pair of sneakers and his coat, grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone, and barely stopped to turn off the TV and lights before he left for Sabrina’s.

He found her place easily enough. He didn’t especially like how to itself it was, even if she could at least see her neighbors as opposed to the mortuary where the only visible structure for miles was an old birdhouse in the side yard. Greendale was safe enough, but all the same, he wished she had closer neighbors, or at least streetlights.

Sabrina was waiting on the porch when he got out of his car.

“Fair warning Spellman, I’m no handyman,” he greeted her. He had recognized on the drive over that he had absolutely no idea how to repair a sink. She had called and he had come without question because when it came to her, he would do anything, even plumbing. “But I think I can at least get the water shut off for you.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “With it being New Year’s Eve Ambrose and Cee both must be busy and I didn’t know who else to call…”

“You know you can always call me, Spellman.” He eyed her closely. She was nervous, he noted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and back again, her gaze darting around even as she worked to focus her attention on him. She was dressed down, like him, in leggings and a sweatshirt, a pair of thick socks pulled up to her mid-shin. Christmas lights twinkled around her. A fair amount of suspicion rose up within him as he approached. Something was off. “You’re surprisingly dry for someone who has been battling a raging water leak.”

“I changed,” she shrugged. “Come inside?” She didn’t wait for Nick to reply. He followed her inside. The lights were off, save for the glow of a Christmas tree coming from the living room off to the side of the entrance, and it was surprisingly quiet. His suspicion grew. She led him to the kitchen where he expected to be met by a flood to rival Noah’s with the way she had sounded on the phone. Instead, everything was dry. A bag of Chinese sat on the counter.

“Spellman?” Nick questioned. “What’s going on?”

“I lied,” Sabrina admitted. She looked nervous now, standing there with her arms crossed over her chest. “There is no water leak.”

“Clearly,” Nick replied with a single nod.

“I wanted you to come over,” she confessed.

“You could have – asked,” Nick ventured, more than a little confused about what was happening.

“This was a good idea when I thought of it about ten minutes before I called you,” she told him. “I don’t really know why now, because I know you would have come if I’d just asked.”

“What’s going on, Sabrina?” Nick questioned. “Why the ruse?”

Sabrina took a deep breath. She had been thinking about what to say all day. It was her turn to lay it all on the line.

“I’ve thought about everything you told me,” she began. “And I don’t care, Nick. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I just don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me that you’re an addict and an alcoholic…”

“An addict and an alcoholic is who I am, Sabrina,” Nick cut in. It was important that she understood that.

“I know that,” Sabrina nodded. “And I’m saying it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter to me that you go to therapy and AA meetings or have nightmares or that you’re asking me to take on your baggage. You have hauled those bags around on your own for a long time now, but you don’t have to, Scratch. You would be the first one to grab my bags, but I’m perfectly capable of carrying them on my own. And I can help carry yours, too.”

“Sabrina… What are you saying?”

Nick felt his hope bubbling. She looked at him with tears shining in her eyes.

“I’m saying I want to be with you. I want to be your girlfriend again.” She looked hesitant. “If that’s still what you want.”

“It’s the only thing I want,” Nick informed her. “I would give up a lot more than you know to have you as my girlfriend again.”

Sabrina took a few steps towards him. He reached out and placed his hands on her waist just as much to touch her as to keep some space between them for just a few moments longer.

“Nick?” she questioned when she realized he was purposefully keeping her at just less than arm’s length.

“I want this,” he told her. “But I need to say it, one more time. I’m an addict and an alcoholic. I’ve been through a lot of trauma and it is very much a part of who I am. You understand that, right?”

He had to be sure. He had to know that she understood that he was complicated. There was no fear, not even a hint of a doubt, when she nodded her head ‘yes.’

“As far as I’m concerned, all of that – the good and the bad – has made you into the man you are. You have a past, Nick. But that doesn’t scare me.” She did that thing where she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. “Honestly? The idea of not giving this thing between us a chance scares me a lot more because whatever it is feels like it’s pretty inevitable.”

Nick couldn’t agree more. There was something between them, an attraction that had proven unavoidable from moment she stormed into Dorian’s the day he met her, that deserved a chance to truly flourish. He took the last couple of steps, closing the distance between them as his arms slid around her. He brought her into his chest and heaved a sigh of relief as her arms wrapped around his neck.

“I missed you,” he said into her hair, just as he had over the phone a week ago and again at the coffee shop two days earlier. “I’m not letting you go again, Spellman.”

“Please don’t,” she nearly begged. “I don’t think I could stand it.”

They held one another for a long time, neither willing to let go. Finally, Nick kissed her hair and loosened his grip on her. He still held her hands in his as they parted.

“I was going a little crazy waiting for you to call,” he confessed, his thumbs brushing over the backs of her hands. “I was willing to wait, but I’m glad you called with a story about a busted water pipe.”

“I can’t believe I did that,” Sabrina made a face. “Make up a story, I mean. I should have just called you to come over.” She squeezed his hands. “There’s one more thing I need to say though. Something I’ve wanted to say for a while now.”

“I’m listening,” he assured her as his stomach gave a nervous flip. She smiled at him, big and bright.

“I love you, Nick.”

He decided in that moment she wasn’t the first rays of sun after the rain. She was the entire sun and the rainbow too.

“I love you, Sabrina.” The words came easy and he knew he met them down to the very core of his being. “I love you more than I ever knew was possible to love another person.”

Her smile grew.

“I think you should kiss me – just to seal the deal.”

He put his hand on her cheek and leaned in to seal his lips over hers.

Everything clicked into place.

She was his, but he was wholly hers. He didn’t think she would ever understand just how hers he truly was. He wondered vaguely as his kiss deepened if she had any clue as to how deep his love for her went. He himself didn’t know as it seemed to only grow deeper with each passing day.

They only parted when they needed to take a breath.

“Here I thought I was going to ring in another year sitting on my couch, watching sports teams I don’t care about play mediocre football,” Nick said.

“You could still do that,” Sabrina ventured. His arms were still around her waist. Her hands rested on his chest. “But I ordered half of the menu from the Chinese place in hopes that you would be willing to stay here, welcome the New Year, and maybe make sure I got a kiss at midnight…”

Nick chuckled at the coincidence of it all.

“Believe it or not, I was considering ordering Chinese before you called.”

“Great minds,” she teased. It was beginning to look like Chinese takeout might be a thing of theirs. “Shall we eat?”

Nick thought she might have actually ordered half the menu when she started removing one carton after another from the bag. They each made a plate of a little bit of everything and heated them up in the microwave. Sabrina poured them a glasses of iced tea. But when Nick made to sit down at the small kitchen table, Sabrina stopped him.

“Follow me, Scratch.”

Curiously, he followed her out of the kitchen. In her living room, she had spread a blanket on the floor. Several flickering candles dotted the room. She had strung a few Christmas lights and her tree shined in the corner.

“I can’t say I expected this,” Nick admitted as he took in the scene.

“It’s New Year’s Eve,” she told him. “I thought it might be nice to make our first meal – our first real holiday together, all things considered – special.”

“Honestly, your kitchen could have actually been flooding and I wouldn’t have cared.” He smiled at her as they settled on the floor. “I would have been with you.”

Sabrina asked Nick about Chicago and he told her about visiting his parents’ home and spending time with Michael’s family and his grandmother while they ate. When they were finished, Nick stacked their plates and sat them on her coffee table. He wanted her back in his arms. He moved to her and boldly pulled her into him. He laid down on the floor, her with him.

“Your turn. Tell me what you did over these last few weeks,” Nick requested. “I know we talked about the recital the other day, but I missed a lot.” He wanted to know everything about her, even the mundane things about how she spent the days in which she had no plans.

“The recital took up a lot of my time,” she shared. “I’m grateful for that. It helped me get through those first days after you left.” Nick tightened his hold on her at the mention of how much his leaving had hurt her. “I really love teaching, Nick. I know it isn’t the high-powered legal career I was heading for, but it feels so right. I love seeing those kids learn and perform. I think I love teaching and choreographing even more than I love dancing, which is saying something.”

“You’re meant for it,” Nick said. “I could tell that the first time I saw you dance.”

“Mention that to Zelda the next time you see her?”

“She still unimpressed?”

“Very much so,” Sabrina confirmed. “Despite her saying she understood my decision. Although not so unimpressed she wouldn’t ask me to teach a dance class at the Academy once a week, so I’ll be doing that when the new semester starts.”

“As long as I still get to see you dance sometimes,” Nick hinted.

“I’ll remain plenty flexible for you, Scratch,” she teased. “Once the recital was over and classes done for the year, I got really bored. I read a lot, bothered Ambrose a lot.” She lifted her head from his chest so she could look at him. “I thought about you a lot.”

“I thought about you constantly,” he assured her, his hand running through her hair. “Especially once I signed those papers. Once the ink dried, it was like a lot of my problems fell away and all I could think about was getting back to Greendale and asking you for another chance.”

“You came back early,” Sabrina observed.

“Because I couldn’t stand being so far away from you,” Nick countered. “I didn’t know if you would give me another chance, but I had to come back and find out.”

“I’m so glad you did. Your call on Christmas Eve was everything, Nick.”

“I felt so lonely that night. It wasn’t my first Christmas without my parents – Mom was gone last year, and Dad was all but gone – but it was a lot harder this year. I had tried to call you several times and I finally hit the button to connect us that night.”

“I fell asleep thinking about you,” Sabrina admitted. “Not that I didn’t think about you all the time, but the fact that it was Christmas and I had heard from you… I went to bed hopeful.” Nick played with her hair, letting her words, words he himself would have used to describe how he himself had drifted off tonight, sink in. Sabrina had no idea the floor could be so comfortable.

“You were everywhere I looked in Chicago,” Nick told her. “Billboard signs for the Nutcracker, blonde girls on the street. I even saw you in my mind’s eye wearing one of my Bears t-shirts while I was at a game with Michael. I couldn’t outrun you if I tried.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “This may not the time to bring it up, but I have to say it again. I’m so damned glad you didn’t marry Kinkle.”

“Me too,” Sabrina agreed as she snuggled closer. She thought of something though and lifted her head again. “Nick, are you still planning to…”

“Work at Dorian’s?” he finished, reading her mind. Sabrina nodded. “No. I’ve already told him I’m not coming back. I don’t think working there led me back to drinking. Never, not once, did I want to pour myself a glass of whatever I was serving. But it’s still a risk I’m not willing to take.”

“That’s probably a wise move,” Sabrina agreed, unable to hide her relief.

“Besides,” Nick continued, moving his hand through her hair again, “I’ll be teaching two undergrad classes this semester on top of my own course load. I would rather spend my free time with my girlfriend instead of slinging drinks behind a bar.”

“Your girlfriend likes that,” Sabrina said with a smile. She leaned down to kiss him. He tasted like soy sauce and _him._ “You know you’re going to be staying here tonight, don’t you?”

“I didn’t have any real plans to leave,” Nick admitted. “Which reminds me. Spellman? This place is entirely to itself. I’m not sure I like…”

“Save it,” she cut him off. “You’re wasting your breath. Ambrose and Zelda have already beat that particular topic into the ground. Hilda agrees with me – I’m perfectly safe.”

“Let’s at least get you a motion censored light or two outside,” Nick proposed. “Just in case…”

“You’re a genius, Scratch,” Sabrina declared. “I keep forgetting to leave my porch light on when I leave and then I come home in the dark. I nearly tripped over your flowers because I couldn’t see where I was going.”

“Motion lights it is,” Nick decided. That would be a project for tomorrow. He continued to play with her hair. “You know, I meant it when I said I sleep better with you by my side.”

“You said you saw me dead in your dreams,” Sabrina remembered.

“I’ve had the same nightmare in some form since my parents died,” Nick shared. “I see them dead on a table, but I also see them standing over their bodies, bloodied and bruised. They say things like ‘look what you did’ and ‘this is your fault.’ In the last couple of weeks before my grandma showed up, their dead bodies started to shift to you. My living parents were still there, still saying ‘look what you did,’ but you were dead. It shook me to my core.”

“I’m right here,” she reminded him. “I’m okay.”

“I know.” Nick’s hand smoothed down her back. “The nightmares have only happened a couple of times since I signed those papers.”

“That’s good?” Sabrina questioned.

“It’s good,” he confirmed. It was another sign that he was starting to truly process what he had been through and release the guilt he carried. Sabrina reached out and ran a hand through his hair.

“We could move to the sofa…”

“We could,” Nick agreed. “But I’m pretty comfortable right here.”

“Me too.” Sabrina reached for the remote control on the coffee table and turned on the TV. A New Year’s Eve special live from Times Square filled the screen. “Just so we’ll know when it’s midnight.”

Sabrina settled back into his arms. It was comfortable, lying on the floor, her head on Nick’s chest, his hand trailing up and down her back as they watched artists from across genres perform, some more entertaining than others. Eventually, Sabrina tilted her chin up and kissed him. What was meant to be an innocent show of her feelings turned into more.

Part of Nick told him to stop. Their relationship was tender at best and he wondered if it was too soon, if they should push pause. But he was still a man and he missed that connection with her almost as much as he had missed _her_.

“Nick,” she breathed. She appreciated that he was dressed so casually. She could feel him growing against her hip, but she could also feel his brain battling his conflicting thoughts about whether to proceed. “Stop thinking so much.”

He chuckled against her lips.

“How did you know?” he questioned.

“I know you.”

She did know him, he realized. She now knew him better than anyone. He found himself incredibly grateful for that. There was someone who knew him, the good and the bad, and loved him anyway. That thought wiped away any hesitations he had.

His hand found the hem of her shirt and slipped under it. Her soft skin greeted him. He moved his hand upward and ran his fingertips along the cup of her bra while kissing her.

“Let’s take this off,” he whispered as he moved so he could use both hands to free of her of the sweatshirt. She was wearing a red lacy bra that told him she had every intention of being seen in it. He had been with her enough now to know that when she was dressed down like this, there was typically a sports bra under it. “Beautiful,” he muttered before placing his lips where her neck met her collarbone.

She tugged at Nick’s own shirt, eager to feel skin on skin. He helped her pull the shirt over his head, then went right back to his ministrations. He was determined to kiss every inch of her. He worked down her chest slowly, picking up on how her breath quickened. He knew if he were to press his lips over her pulse point, her heart would be racing. That was exactly what he wanted.

He pushed one of her straps off her shoulder, then the other. She freed her arms entirely, then pushed herself up on her elbows, capturing Nick’s lips as he unhooked her bra. It fell away, leaving her chest bared to him.

Sabrina could think of nothing but Nick. He had successfully managed to pull her in and ensure her only thought was of him. She couldn’t even push for control, so lost in what his hands and lips were doing to her top half. She had picked up on the fact that he liked that, liked to be completely in charge sometimes. In the past, it had been her that pushed the limit in the bedroom, but with Nick, she didn’t mind letting him take control from time to time so long as he let her be the one calling the shots on occasion.

She thought tonight, he might even need to be in complete control.

He kneaded one breast, his fingers playing with her nipple, while his lips paid attention to the other. Sabrina shuttered under him and pressed her hips up into him, her body acting of its own accord. She knew where she wanted him, but she also knew he was purposefully taking his time getting there.

“You’re so sensitive,” he murmured against her skin.

“You’re driving me crazy,” she breathed.

“Mmm,” he breathed. “I’m not sorry.”

When he made it to her hip bone, she trembled in want and abandoned all pretense.

“Nick,” she practically begged. “Nick, please…”

“Not yet.” The very tip of his tongue ran along the waistband of her leggings. She reacted by trying to both squirm away from him and push herself closer, a confusing reaction. “So sensitive.”

“Nick,” she whined.

He smirked and prowled up her body.

“I know patience isn’t your strong suit.” He pressed his hips into hers and she grinded against him. “But you’re not going to regret being on the edge like this once I do give you what you want.”

“Dear God,” Sabrina breathed. His words alone were enough to undo her.

He slowly pulled her leggings down her legs. He wasn’t surprised to find her wearing matching red panties. He thought he might deserve a medal for his own patience. She wasn’t the only one that wanted him between her legs.

He propped himself up on one elbow so he could watch her as his opposite hand moved painstakingly slow, starting with pushing her hair back, her hairline already damp with sweat. His fingers moved over her cheek, along her neck, down her breastbone. Her breath hitched as his fingertips moved over the sensitive skin of her abdomen. When he reached the elastic of her panties, however, he skipped over the fabric to find the inside of her thigh and continue down her leg.

“Dammit!” she cursed. He chuckled.

“So needy,” he observed. At her calf, he drew a circle and trailed his fingers back up. “But you’ve been so patient.”

She let out a word he didn’t know she was capable of when he finally pressed his fingers where she wanted them. She moved her hips against his fingers and blindly reached out, searching for him. He was quick to divest her of her panties, leaving her bare before him. She cried out when his lips fell between her legs.

There was a vague moment as she knotted her fingers in his curls to hold him in place where she wondered who in the hell she had become. In another life, this was never something she saw herself doing, laying naked and spread eagle in the middle of her living room floor with a handsome man between her legs, doing things with his tongue and teeth that she thought could well be illegal in some states. Not only was she allowing it, she enjoyed it. Loved it, even. She loved his dirty talk, his lack of inhibitions. She loved how she could make him moan by tugging on his hair and rubbing herself against him. She loved how his five o’clock shadow caused just enough friction to add yet another layer of pleasure.

When his fingers plunged into her, she arced her back off the floor and called out his name. He was deliberate in his attempt to coax her orgasm along, rubbing her from the inside as he alternated between sucks and gentle nips.

“Fuck,” she breathed when she came down. “How do you do that?”

“I’m talented,” he said with a cocky smirk before kissing her deeply, allowing her to taste herself. He knew she liked his dirty mouth, so he went for it. “Besides, you’re so tight around me that I have to take the time to make sure you’re ready for me.”

“Why are you still wearing clothes?” she half growled. She blindly reached for the waistband of his shorts. He helped her push them down and then shamelessly took her hand and guided it to his erection.

“There you go,” he said into her ear as her hand wrapped around him. “Take a minute, see what’s waiting to get inside of you.”

She squeezed and he thrusted into her hand. She felt the precum and considered pushing him down and mounting him right then and there. Except her body didn’t seem to be under her control anymore. It was taking all of its cues from him.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she breathed as her hand worked him. Nick kissed her as he positioned himself over her. He found one of her hands and laced her fingers together with his. He used his other hand to position himself, then found her other hand. He squeezed tight and kissed her as he pressed into her. She moaned into his mouth. “Missed you,” she managed.

“I love you,” Nick countered, his body still as he gave her a moment to adjust. “I plan to say that often.”

“I love you, too,” she assured him. She smiled up at him, lit by the flickering candles and the Christmas tree lights and he was momentarily struck dumb that an angel like her could possibly love him. But then she moved her hips against his and he was right back in the present.

“Tell me what you want,” he requested, lips close to her ear.

“You,” she replied. She pushed her had through his hair as she arched into him. “I want you. I want to feel everything.”

“Whatever you want.” He nipped the sensitive spot just below her ear and felt her shudder under him. “Always.”

He wasn’t rough, but he wasn’t gentle, either. His thrusts were long and deep and she met him with each one. He didn’t let go of her hands, and she held on tighter. Her legs wrapped around him in an effort to bring him even closer. They lost themselves in one another, both hyper aware of the connection between them, both the physical one and the one that wasn’t visible but palpable all the same.

And then she was tumbling over the edge, utterly in freefall as wave after wave of pleasure washed through her. She cried out his name and a string of words he couldn’t quite make out because he was so lost in the buildup of his own undoing. He kept going, letting his primitive instincts to be fast, bigger, and stronger take over, but only as much as he knew she could handle.

He came with a primal growl, leaving himself deep inside of her. The sensation made her body twitch with an aftershock of sorts. He collapsed on top of her, both of them slick with sweat. She released one of his hands and ran it through his hair and down his back. His breath was heavy. So was his body, but she didn’t mind. She liked the weight. It was reassuring. She moved her hand back to his curls and massaged them. He let out a content hum and squeezed the hand he still held. On the TV, confetti fell.

“It’s the New Year,” Sabrina realized in a soft voice.

“Is it?” Nick lifted his head and peered at the TV. The clock in the lower right corner read 12:01. “It is.” He turned to her with a soft smile. “Happy New Year, Spellman.”

“Happy New Year, Scratch,” she replied with a smile. She ran her hand through his hair again. “Hell of a way to ring it in.” Nick chuckled.

“I say we make it a tradition. No need for fancy parties and confetti falling. Just Chinese takeout, a few candles, and a blanket.”

“Oh, so you think we’ll still be together next year?” Sabrina quipped.

“Absolutely,” Nick said with confidence. He kissed her again, then pulled out of her. He laid down next to her and pulled her back into his arms. “I think we’ll be together many many New Year’s from now.”

“That’s a bold claim, Mr. Scratch,” Sabrina commented.

“It is,” Nick agreed. “But I’m not afraid to make it.” He brushed her sweaty hair back. “Not anymore.” Sabrina looked at him with something akin to amazement. “What?”

“You’re so confident,” she observed. “Two months ago, you couldn’t say ‘girlfriend’ and now you’re proclaiming we’re going to be together for a long time to come.”

“That makes you nervous,” Nick observed. “You’re worried I swung from one extreme to the other.”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted. She looked a little insecure. Nick knew that was his fault.

“That’s fair.” His hand moved up and down her back. The lack of clothing heightened the intensity of the conversation. “But I’m in this, Sabrina.” It heightened his promise, too. “I’ll prove it to you, over and over again.” That earned a small smile from her and he decided it was time to do the responsible thing. “What do you say we get off this floor and into bed?”

“That’s not the worst idea.”

Nick stood and offered her his hand to bring her to his feet. He kissed her sweetly before releasing her. He found his shorts while she wrapped the blanket around herself. She carried their plates into the kitchen while he slipped outside to his car to get his phone, wallet, and keys.

“It’s kind of nice,” she said as they made their way to the bedroom a few hours later, “you, spending the night with me. I always stayed at your place.”

“I would have felt weird about sleeping over with your aunts in the house,” he admitted. “Even though we did have that especially memorably makeup sex in your bedroom there…” Sabrina rolled her eyes playfully. She went to her dresser, found the pajamas she wanted, and dropped the blanket. Nick tried not to stare. She held his eyes as she stepped into her pajama bottoms. “You putting on clothes feels wrong.”

“I have a feeling you’ll get these off of me come morning,” she said. “The bathroom is just through there.” She pointed towards a door, then smiled at him. “I might have picked up one of those plastic toothbrushes while I was at the grocery store earlier and trying to figure out how to lure you over.”

Nick felt warm all over.

“You’re incredible, Spellman.”

“Right back at you, Scratch.”

They took turns in the bathroom and by the time Sabrina joined Nick in bed, he was nearly asleep. Still, he held out her arm so she could come to him.

“Your bed is incredibly comfortable.”

“It is,” she agreed. “It’s even more comfortable with you sleeping in it.”

“I love you, Spellman,” Nick told her. He found her lips in the dark for one last kiss before they slept. “Thank you for taking me on.”

“I love you, Nick,” Sabrina replied. “And I’m not taking you on. You’re not a project. You’re a man that I’m proud to have stand next to me.”

Nick could only kiss her again.

For what Sabrina realized was one of only a couple of times she could remember, he fell asleep first. She smiled as she watched him sleep, her own eyes heavy, her body tired. Whatever had happened to him in Chicago had changed him for the better. Signing those papers seemed to have given him a deep sense of peace and that inner peace meant another chance for them.

And for that, she was incredibly grateful.

The smile stayed on her face as she drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they're back together! Hell of a way to bring in the New Year, am I right? 
> 
> One more chapter left. I'm so sad about that. I love this version of these two... 
> 
> Let me know what you thought? Your comments are the absolute best and they definitely keep me writing. <3


	23. Lover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're here. The final chapter. Enjoy.

_Can I go where you go?_   
_Can we always be this close forever and ever?_   
_And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever)_   
_You're my, my, my, my lover_

Sabrina bit her lip in an effort to keep her thoughts to herself. Nick, however, noticed.

“What is it now, Spellman?” he asked wearily.

“Nothing…”

“Sabrina.”

She sighed out the irritation he knew she had with him.

“Our flight boards in ten minutes and you’re moseying along…”

“We’ve got plenty of time,” Nick informed her with a wave of his hand. “The flight starts to board in ten minutes, it doesn’t take off in ten minutes. There’s no need to rush.”

“But…”

“I would have never pegged you for a nervous traveler,” Nick commented.

“I’m not nervous,” Sabrina informed him. “I’m timely. I want to be where we’re supposed to be when we’re supposed to be there.”

“Right. We’re supposed to be on a plane that leaves – actually leaves – in like forty-five minutes. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

They were traveling to Chicago to spend Nick’s spring break visiting his grandmother. He wanted to show Sabrina where he grew up and introduce her – properly – to Amalia as well as Michael and his family.

He had plans to take her to a Blackhawks game.

Assuming they made it to Chicago.

He was rapidly learning that Sabrina was an incredibly organized and punctual traveler. He should have expected it, given the hard time she gave him whenever he was a few minutes late for anything. Her military attention to things like boarding times was proving to clash with his belief that it was best to get on the plane as close to last as possible. He just didn’t see the point in sitting in a plane seat longer than he had to.

“We don’t have all the time in the world. We have ten minutes...”

Nick stopped them right in the middle of the busy New Haven airport and pressed a kiss to her lips to calm her down.

“You think you’re so smooth,” she informed him when he pulled away.

“And what do you think?” he asked with a glint in his eye.

“I usually think you’re alright, but not right now.”

Nick laughed and took her hand in his. They resumed walking. He had his duffel bag slung over his shoulder and was pulling her roller bag along behind him at his insistence. He had challenged her the night before to pack for the week in a carry on, and after a lot of huffing and puffing, she had somehow managed it. Between that and his lackadaisical attitude towards getting to the gate right at boarding call, he figured hauling her luggage was the least he could do. It may well have been saving their relationship right then.

“I promise, Spellman, that we’re going to be in our seats, seatbelts on and tray tables in their upright and locked position, in plenty of time.” He was a seasoned traveler while it was a newer concept for her. Taking her to all of his favorite places around the globe and discovering new ones was one of the things he was most looking forward to. Once they found a happy medium in their travel styles. “Then you’ve got about four and a half hours to sit next to me and be bored.” He squeezed her hand and tilted his head to draw her attention forward. “Look at that, Spellman. We’re at our gate. Two minutes before boarding.”

“It’s a miracle,” she said wryly.

“I’m going to grab a coffee before we board,” he told her, spotting a Starbucks nearby. “Want one?” She frowned.

“You’re going to get a coffee? Right now?”

“We’ve got plenty of time, and we had to get up before the sun,” he reminded her. “Trust me, Spellman, you don’t want plane coffee. I’ll get you a pastry, too.”

“Fine,” she decided. “I’ll take a latte. But I’m getting on the plane when I’m supposed to.” She reached out and snagged the handle of her suitcase. “And I’m taking this with me. I’m not flying to Chicago without my bag just because you decided to play chicken with the clock.”

“What kind of pastry do you want?” Nick asked with a smirk. Sabrina narrowed her eyes at him.

“A blueberry muffin.”

“I’ll see you on the plane.” Nick winked at her and walked away. Sabrina rolled her eyes and turned back to the gate. She listened dutifully to be called to board, chewing at her lip as she fretted as to whether Nick would make it in time.

“Group 2, came the call to board. “Now boarding group 2.”

Sabrina triple checked her ticket to make sure it was her group and stepped forward. She smiled politely at the attendant as she scanned her ticket, then boarded the plane.

She had to hand it to Nicholas Scratch. He had insisted on taking care of their tickets with what she had learned was a copious amount of airline miles. They were flying business class and for that, she was thankful. She had only flown a handful of times, but always in coach and always with her dance team. At least now she wouldn’t have a stranger in her row and a little extra space. She settled in, claiming the window seat even though she had the aisle on her ticket, deciding she had gotten there first, and buckled her seatbelt.

She watched the masses board the plane, scanning each new face in search of Nick. She was beginning to grow antsy when his familiar head of curls finally appeared. He held a drink carrier in his hand and looked completely at ease.

“Look at that,” he said when he reached her. “Right on time.”

“I took your seat,” she informed him as she accepted the carrier from him so he could put his bag in the overhead compartment.

“I prefer the aisle anyway,” he said as he sat down. He buckled his seat belt as the flight attendants went down the aisle closing bins and the last of the arrivals found their seats. “Told you I’d make it.”

“I was content to go to Chicago without you.” She passed him the coffee with his name messily scrawled on it. “Your grandmother likes me. She wouldn’t be too concerned if you didn’t show.”

“You’re not wrong,” Nick agreed. He grinned at her. “You’re cute when you’re stressed out.”

“Oh really?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “You didn’t seem to think I was so cute last night when I was attempting to pack for a week in a postage stamp.”

“And yet you managed it,” Nick quipped, recalling how annoyed she had been while attempting to pack with a certain fondness now that it was behind them. He had tried to tell her he was kidding, that she could check a bag if she wanted, but she wouldn’t back down.

“Because you challenged me,” she reminded him. He chuckled.

“God, I love you, Spellman.”

She had to smile. The last few months had been – good. Nick had continued to show that he was in a good place, that he had worked through whatever he had been holding onto around his parents’ deaths. He was busy with school, but he always had time for her. She was teaching dance fulltime, had even started working with the same competition team she had been a member of, and she often didn’t finish up until late evenings, but they made it work. They had barely spent a night apart, switching off between Nick’s apartment and her cottage, so much so that she had made him drive her to his place the night before to get a few of the things she wanted to pack.

It wasn’t perfect. Nick still had his moments in which he became overwhelmed or needed what Sabrina called a time out to process whatever was on his mind. Those times tended to coincide with his therapy appointments or an AA meeting, both of which he attended regularly. Sabrina tried not to push, but it had taken her some time to learn how to be okay with giving him the space he needed. She had learned to be okay with sitting on the sidelines, now understood that Nick always came back to her when he was ready.

It was a real relationship, one with ups and downs but their underlying desire to be together at the end of the day kept them strong.

“Thank you for my coffee,” she replied. She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“Anytime,” he winked.

“And I love you, too.”

Nick beamed, took her hand in his, and kissed the back of it.

The flight was uneventful. Sabrina used the time to read while Nick pulled out his laptop and worked through the papers he needed to grade for one of the undergrad classes he taught. In Chicago, she marveled at how easily Nick navigated the train from O’Hare into the heart of the city, but she reminded herself this was how he had grown up, taking metros here, taxis there.

“When did you learn how to drive?” she asked curiously as he led her out of a metro station. She was expecting a bustling city sidewalk but was met with a quaint street dotted with a few people going about their day. It was a more residential scene than she expected.

“When I was fifteen, like most teenagers,” Nick answered. “That’s an odd question, Spellman.”

“It’s just… You grew up in such a big city,” she explained. “You could just use public transportation.”

“My mom thought it was important that I learn how to drive,” he told her. “Dad grew up in the city and didn’t learn to drive until college. Mom taught him. She taught me, too. But I didn’t actually drive places until I left for undergrad. As you’ve pointed out, there was no need.”

He coyly reached over and took the handle of her bag just as he had in the airport. She just smiled, shook her head, and allowed him to do it. He set a slower pace along the street than he normally would to allow her to take in the brownstone-lined street. She looked around as they walked. It was idyllic, nearly exactly what she had pictured when she thought of the Chicago Nick had described to her when he would talk about his childhood, something he did more and more since their reunion.

“Here we are,” he said when they arrived at the brownstone his parents had left him. “Home for the week.” He had opted to stay there instead of with his grandmother. It was a big step for him, but he felt comfortable there now, and he wanted Sabrina to have some space she wouldn’t necessarily have if they stayed at Amalia’s. It would also allow them some privacy to do – other things. He unlocked the door and pushed it open. “After you, Spellman.”

Sabrina curiously entered the home. She knew Nick had grown up in an upper class family – their backgrounds were similar in that way as her father had been a doctor, her mother a nurse practitioner and she had inherited their estate in a family that already had a certain status as a mere child – but seeing Nick’s home made it real.

The brownstone was old and grand, yet somehow still comfortable and welcoming. Right away, she felt like she was at home. She looked over her shoulder at Nick as he navigated their bags inside and shut the door. She gave him a small smile which he returned with an encouraging nod, giving her permission to wander further into the entry. She was drawn towards the family photos lining the nearby wall.

“Of course the photos from my awkward years are the first thing you go for,” he said from behind her.

“I’d like to know where the awkwardness is,” she said as she looked at the photos featuring Nick front and center at various ages alongside his parents. He was harder now, the typical softness of childhood long gone, but even young, he was handsome. “You look like your mom.”

“That’s what Grandma has always said,” he agreed. “But she says I act like my dad.” Sabrina pointed to a photo of his father standing with his arms crossed, laughing at a young Nick who was squatting down, playing in the dirt of the rural background where the photo was taken. His mother was bent over, her hands on her knees, laughing as well.

“You stand like that,” she told him. “Arms crossed. Most of the time it’s a defensive stance when people do it. It’s not with you. When you do it, you’re, listening intently and preparing for a rebuttal to whatever you’re hearing.”

Nick laughed and slipped his arm around her waist. It was nice, to show her his home, let her see these photos. It wasn’t something he had seen for himself even six months ago. He had been determined to stay far away from the brownstone, thought love was something for other people, not him. And yet here he was, in love with Sabrina, bringing her to his home and allowing her into that piece of him.

“I was about six there,” he told her as he looked at the picture. “I remember those photos. Mom made us do a photoshoot for Christmas cards every year. That year, she made Dad drive us over an hour out of the city to have this rugged themed photo shoot. He complained the entire time because he was right – they weren’t rugged people. Their idea of being outdoors was dinner on the patio of some upscale restaurant. My mom and dad were city people to their core. I’m pretty sure she framed this photo just to remind him of the occasion.”

“I think she framed it because her son looked adorable.”

“Why don’t you let that adorable son show you around?” he proposed. “Grandma is expecting us for dinner, but that’s hours from now. We can settle in, take a nap, whatever.”

“Show me around, Scratch,” she agreed.

“Right this way, Spellman.”

Arm still around her waist, he led her further into his family home.

* * *

Nick swung the front door open. Michael, his wife Marianne, and their youngest daughter, Hannah, stood on the other side.

“Hey,” he greeted with an easy smile. “Come on in.”

“This is one of the top ten weirdest things I’ve ever done,” Michael said as he escorted his wife inside. “Top five, possibly.”

“Don’t make me regret inviting you,” Nick warned.

“Send him home if you must, but let the rest of us stay,” Marianne spoke up. “I want to eat whatever is cooking. It smells amazing.”

“Lasagna, and it is,” Nick answered. “Sabrina learned from her aunt, and it’s worth every bite you’re about to take.”

“Where is she?” Michael asked. “I want to meet this wonder woman.”

Nick thought that was a pretty appropriate likeness for Sabrina. She was a wonder in every way. She appeared in the entry as though she knew he was thinking of her. Amalia was a few paces behind her.

“Hi,” she greeted with a slight nervous tilt to her tone that was unlike her usual bravery. Nick found it endearing that she was nervous about meeting Michael and his family.

“Sabrina,” Nick came to her and put his arm around her waist, “I want you to meet my godfather, Michael. Michael, this is my girlfriend,” he smiled at the word, “Sabrina.”

“I have heard an awful lot about you,” Michael extended his hand. “You’re a saint for putting up with this one.”

“Don’t remind her,” Nick quipped, making everyone laugh.

“He makes it easier than he will ever believe,” Sabrina said, noting how Nick rolled his eyes in disbelief as she shook hands with Michael who chuckled heartily.

“This is my wife, Marianne,” Michael introduced. “And our youngest daughter, Hannah. Our oldest, Ellie, is off on her own spring break adventure some place warm and tropical and I’m pretending I’m not concerned about what she’s up to.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Sabrina said, taking Marianne’s hand as well. She liked the Pruitt family immediately, even though she was nervous to her core. She and Nick had decided together to have them and Amalia over for dinner. It felt very grown up, to be hosting a dinner party of sorts, particularly in Nick’s family home. She wanted to impress them. She wanted them to like her, as she knew how important they were to Nick. And admittedly, she wanted to impress Nick, too, although she had no idea why. “Dinner should be ready soon, but there are appetizers…”

“She’s been quite busy,” Amalia supplied as she released Hannah from a grandmotherly hug. “Wouldn’t let either of us help.”

“Nick can’t cook, and you’re a guest,” Sabrina reminded her.

“I set the table,” Nick said. “Incorrectly, because Grandma fixed it for me.”

Sabrina snorted. Amalia looked pleased with herself. Really, she was simply happy to see her grandson so happy.

“His domestic skills to leave a bit to be desired if I remember correctly,” Michael said.

“How about those appetizers?” Nick said, making everyone chuckle at his attempt at deterring Michael from sharing anything embarrassing.

“I’m going to go put the garlic bread in the oven,” Sabrina said. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

“Why don’t I pour everyone a glass of tea?” Amalia suggested.

“I’ll take care of it,” Nick said. “Go ahead into the dining room – Sabrina made the appetizers, but I moved from the form the kitchen to the dining room.”

Amalia gave Nick a knowing look before shepherding the rest of the group out of the entry. Nick turned to Sabrina, but she was already heading for the kitchen. He followed.

“You’re nervous.”

“I’m not…” She bused herself with brushing olive oil on the bread she had already lined neatly on a sheet.

“You are.” Nick came behind her and put his hands on her hips. “You don’t need to be.” He dropped his lips to her shoulder. “It’s just Michael and his family.”

“They mean a lot to you,” Sabrina said. “I want them to like me.”

“Spellman, they will love you.” He took the brush out of her hand, laid it on the baking sheet, and ignored her protest as he turned her to face him. “They already do.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Simply because you love me.”

“It feels so adult, having them over, making dinner.”

“We are adults,” Nick reminded her. “But honestly, Sabrina?” I really like this. You, me, my family, here. This wasn’t something I saw for myself for a long time. I’m incredibly grateful its my reality, that you are a part of it.”

Sabrina could only press her lips to his.

“You should pour those drinks,” she suggested when she pulled away a few moments later. “And I need to get this bread in the oven so they don’t have to wait too long for dinner.”

“Okay, Hilda,” Nick said. Sabina smacked his arm, making him chuckle. He pecked her lips one more time before he let her go. “I’m taking credit for the tea.”

“I made it,” she reminded him. “You don’t get credit just because you poured it.”

“Watch me try,” Nick quipped, making Sabrina laugh.

Dinner went smoothly. Sabrina’s lasagna was a hit, and she was right in her initial impression of Michael and his family. Conversation was easy, Michael and Amalia taking turns telling stories about both Nick and his parents. Nick kept a hand on her thigh under the table most of dinner. He felt proud of both himself and of Sabrina. He was a different person than the guy who had left for Greendale eight months ago and for that he was extremely grateful. He was certainly a lot happier.

Once dessert was served, he offered to clean up, feeling it was the least he could do after Sabrina cooked everything, and Michael volunteered to help him. Nick saw right through him.

“What?” he asked as they carried dishes from the dining room to the kitchen. The faint sounds of the women in the living room echoed back to them. Hannah had taken a liking to Sabrina when she found out Sabrina was a dancer like herself and it was the current topic of conversation.

“What?” Michael countered.

“You have something to say to me,” Nick observed. “It’s the only reason you’re helping me clean up.”

“You’re happy,” Michael observed, getting right to his point. “Really happy.”

“I am,” Nick confirmed. “I have my moments once in a while, but I’m still in therapy and going to AA meetings and Sabrina has the patience of a saint. We get through it”

“It’s good that you’ve stuck with therapy.”

“I’ve kind of gotten used to it by now,” Nick admitted. “My therapist just moved me to every other week sessions instead of weekly, so I must be improving in her eyes.” He was a little unsure of how he felt about leaving his weekly schedule behind, but he agreed with Elsbeth that it was time.

“School is going well?” Michael continued.

“Very,” Nick nodded. “I won’t bore you with the details, but I’m working on a research project this semester that has a lot of potential to be published.”

“Such a nerd,” Michael observed. “Just like your father.”

“I’ll take that as the highest of compliments.”

“It was meant to be.” Michael turned on the sink. “I rinse, you load?”

“Works for me,” Nick nodded. He opened the dishwasher.

“What are your plans for this place?” Michael continued. “You’re going to be in Greendale for the foreseeable future. This place has sat empty for a long time…”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Nick admitted. “I don’t want to sell it. It’s my home. But I’m not going to live here for a long time. Maybe one day…” He trailed off, his mind drifting to a conversation he wanted to have with Sabrina soon. “I’m thinking about renting it out, but that would mean having to figure out what to do with everything – donate it, sell it, keep it…”

“You can leave it sitting empty,” Michael reminded him. “Hire people to take care of it.”

“That doesn’t feel right either,” Nick admitted. “This is the kind of place that deserves to be lived in.” He neatly lined up the plates in the rack and grinned to himself. He had always haphazardly loaded the dishwasher, but Sabrina had informed him that was entirely incorrect. It seemed he had picked up her way of doing things. She would be thrilled. “I’ll think about it some more, talk it over with Grandma, Sabrina.”

“Speaking of Sabrina,” Michael ventured, noting how Nick included her. “Things are serious between the pair of you. Especially if you’re talking about discussing the future of this house with her.”

“She’s the only girlfriend I ever intend to have,” Nick said with complete honesty.

“I like her, Michael told. “I like her a lot.”

“I’m glad,” Nick said. “I wasn’t worried, but it’s nice to hear all the same.”

“More than that, your parents would have loved her, Nick. They really would have.”

“I think about that a lot,” Nick admitted with a certain sadness. “It does me no good to wish that things were different, but I would give anything to be able to introduce her to them.” He smiled in a reminiscent sort of way. “Mom would have adored her. Dad would have probably given me a sly thumbs up behind her back and nodded his approval.”

“That’s exactly how I imagine it playing out in my head, too,” Michael agreed. He passed Nick a plate. “You know, you’ve got your mother’s ring…”

“I know,” Nick agreed. “I’ll use it one of these days.” For now, he was content to just be with Sabrina, be her boyfriend and continue to settle into their relationship. But it wouldn’t be enough for him forever, and he knew it wouldn’t be enough for her, either. “I love that girl, Michael.”

“I can tell,” he nodded. “Do right by her, Nicholas.”

“I will,” Nick promised. He grew somber. “Thank you, Michael. I know I’ve said it before, but I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, even when I didn’t deserve it.” He was quiet for a beat. “Everything you did for my parents.”

Michael reached out and squeezed Nick’s shoulder.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” he told him. “That’s all I can ask of you.”

“I will,” Nick promised him. “I like where I am, who I’m becoming.”

“You’ve always been a good guy, Nick,” Michael said. The smile he gave him could only be defined as fatherly. “I’m glad you’re finally starting to see it, too.”

* * *

Nick looked up from his book as the sound of the front door opening and closing met his ears. He smiled to himself and waited, listening as Sabrina’s footsteps padded up the stairs and down the hall. She paused when she reached the doorway.

“Hey, Spellman,” he greeted with a grin.

“Hey, Scratch,” she replied with a grin of her own. “How goes the studying and the grading?”

“Grading is done, studying is happening.”

“You’ve been busy then.”

“You’ve been gone for a while,” he countered. “Where are the shopping bags I know you have?”

“Downstairs,” Sabrina admitted. She pushed off the doorframe and made her way towards him. “Your grandmother can shop.”

“She had a willing partner,” Nick stated. Sabrina made to perch on the desk, but Nick grabbed her and pulled her into his lap. “I’m glad you’re home though.”

She had spent the day with his grandmother, shopping and exploring while he got some studying and grading done. He was glad she was home, however. He had been able to focus, but the house was too quiet without her.

“I’m glad I’m home, too.” She pecked his lips, thinking she was home in more than the physical sense – home was where Nick was. “I’m looking forward to a night in.”

“That sounds like heaven.” He returned her kiss. “I got some news today…”

“Oh?” Sabrina raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t help but grin just a bit.

“Know that fellowship I interviewed for a month or so ago?” Sabrina nodded, recalling how Nick had been more flustered than she had ever seen him as he dressed in a sharp suit ahead of the interview and rambled about the fellowship and what it would mean for his career. Nick’s grin got a little bigger. “I got it.”

Sabrina’s eyes lit up in genuine excitement.

“Nick! That’s amazing!” She grabbed his face in his hands and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Congratulations. I know how much you wanted it.”

“I did,” he admitted. “This is a huge opportunity.”

She was still smiling, but he saw the veil of sadness trying to fall over her eyes as she continued to digest the news that Nick had gotten a fellowship his advisor recommended him for. It would take him to a remote village in Rwanda for eight weeks over the summer.

“I’m going to miss you while you’re gone,” she admitted. “No matter how happy I am for you.”

Nick picked up her hand and intertwined their fingers. He had thought about what it would mean for him to be gone for so long – and he had a solution.

“Come with me,” he proposed. “This isn’t like undergrad. It’s not unusual for a Ph.D. candidate to have a family or a significant other that travels with them. You could come with me.”

“Come with you?” Sabrina repeated with disbelief. “To Africa, for eight weeks?”

“I thought, since we would be over there, that maybe we could bookend it with a week in the location of your choice – one before Africa, one after,” he continued. “It could be incredible.”

“But… Dance…” Sabrina’s mind raced as she tried to think of what it would mean to up and leave Greendale for an entire summer, to spend a summer with Nick in a place like Rwanda.

“I have a feeling they would give you a leave of absence for the summer,” he said. Sabrina worked hard for the dance studio. She had certainly earned their respect and deserved some time off, as far as he was concerned.

“What would I do?” Sabrina continued as though she were trying to plan their entire trip right then and there. “You would be off interviewing people and observing and whatever it is you archeologists do. What would I do?”

“I have a feeling you will find something to keep you busy,” Nick said. “There is a community center in the village we would be in. You could help out there.” He squeezed her hand. “Dance is a big part of the Rwandan culture. I imagine you could learn a thing or two, too.”

“Intore,” Sabrina said automatically, recalling something she had learned in a history of dance class in undergrad. “It’s one of their most traditional dances. The women do ballet, the men do the dance of heroes, and there are drums… I’ve seen a lot of videos…”

He saw the wheels turning and knew he had her.

“Come with me,” he said again. “I want to see the world with you, Spellman. Let’s start this summer.”

“I imagine there won’t be much internet service…” she ventured.

“There will be some, but it will be spotty at best,” Nick confirmed, thinking it was odd she brought that up. She wasn’t really the type to be chained to a device.

“That means I could go up to ten whole weeks without talking to Ambrose.” Nick chuckled.

“I seem to remember you telling him you weren’t going to speak to him the entire time you were in Chicago – and yet three days in, you were on the phone with him…”

“Let me live,” Sabrina stated, making Nick laugh outright.

“Come with me,” he said one more time. “We’ve got just enough time to get your passport and all the paperwork in order.” He pinched her arm lightly. She scowled at him. “Shots, too.”

“I’ll have to clear it with the dance studio.” She made up her mind on the spot, deciding anytime she had taken a big risk lately – Nick, dance – things had turned out okay. This would be a risk, too, but it felt right. “But okay. I’ll come with you, Scratch.” He fist pumped, making her laugh. “I’m going to tell you right now that there will be no blasé approach to boarding our flights on time for that trip, however.”

“I’ll work on it,” Nick promised. He squeezed her hand. “You’re going to Africa with me, Spellman.”

“I am,” she agreed, considering him. “Are you really going to let me pick where we go before and after?”

“I am,” Nick confirmed. “Wherever you want.” He leaned into her touch as she ran her hands through his hair. He would be willing to bet she already had an idea of where she wanted to go, but would spend the next however many weeks debating, only to come back to her original thought in the end. “Why don’t we head downstairs, camp out on the couch the rest of the night?”

“Great plan.”

Sabrina stood and wandered towards the door while Nick cleaned up his workspace. She loved Nick’s father’s study. She could feel the man’s personality among his memorabilia. The room reminded her of Nick, too. He had taken her to a Blackhawks game the night before, and while she had no idea what was going on, she had had a blast and wanted to go again. She was starting to love Chicago and wasn’t looking forward to flying home the day after tomorrow.

Downstairs, they struck a deal. Sabrina got to pick what they watched, Nick picked the food. He ordered Chinese – of course – while she chose a rom com. They were curled up on the couch, the Chinese cartons still on the coffee table and the credits playing, when Nick decide now was as good of a time as any to bring up something that had been on his mind for a while.

“Sabrina?”

“Hmm?”

“How would you feel about someday, down the road, if you and I maybe… lived here?” he wondered. “Had a family here?”

Sabrina moved so she could face him. He looked as nervous as he did sincere.

“Nicholas Scratch, are you talking about the future?” she wondered.

“I am,” Nick confirmed with absolute sincerity. “Michael asked me what I want to do with this place given that I’ll be in Greendale for the foreseeable future, and who knows where field work will take me. I can’t bring myself to sell it, so I think I may rent it out. But I keep thinking about living here again one day, with you.” He brushed his fingertips over her cheekbone and recalled the night he came up on her car after she hit the deer and walked away with a few minor injuries, including a bruised cheek. “And this is the kind of place that’s meant to be home to a family. I want that – with you.”

Sabrina could only kiss him.

“I would live here with you in a heartbeat,” she said when she pulled away. “I’m surprised by how much I love it here.” She smiled almost nervously. “And I don’t hate the idea of little yous running around. One day. Far into the future.”

“We’ve got plenty of time for that,” Nick agreed. “But I’ve been thinking about what the future looks like a lot and honestly? All I see is you.”

Sabrina snuggled into his arms at that, content to let him hold her for as long as he wanted to. For Nick, that was a very long time.

The next several years would be full of adventure. Nick’s studies would take him around the globe and Sabrina would go with him, exploring alongside of him, dancing and finding new passions. Someday, they would marry, settle down in Chicago, and get to work on the family they both wanted more with each passing year.

But for now, what mattered was each other.

And as long as they kept that thought front and center, they would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh. These two. 
> 
> Also, are you Nick or Sabrina when you travel? I'm Nick... I play chicken with TSA (pre-check FTW) every single time... 
> 
> I cannot express my gratitude enough to those of you who read, leave kudos, and comment. Nabrina fanfic led me to realize my dream of writing for TV and now, today, I had my first grad school class on writing for television and I loved every moment of it. If you all hadn't been so kind and receptive, I wouldn't have made my way down this path and its pretty amazing. So thank you so much for reading and being so supportive and indulging my whims. Especially during COVID - I' in a state that is still very much locked down and writing has been the only thing keeping me sane when I can't see my friends and do all the things. 
> 
> Okay. I'm done being a sap. 
> 
> Another Nabrina fic? Sure. I'll do one more. I've got a couple of ideas and a post debating them on [Tumblr](https://sarahwyland.tumblr.com/) if you wanna come put your two cents in. Look for that soon! 
> 
> Thank you again - let me know your closing thoughts on this one!

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 is always the most daunting (and for me, the shortest), but I'm so excited to share this one with you all. It's taking all I've got not to spoil what's to come, but it's also mostly written at this point so who knows, you might get the occasional mid-week update! 
> 
> Also, I'm on Tumblr as some of you know. Feel free to follow me - it's mostly my writing stuff and I'm still figuring out how to use it, but I'm there! [Follow me on Tumblr](https://sarahwyland.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I'll stop there before I DO spoil something. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of Chapter 1!


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